


Zootopia: Resurgence of Pasts Never Forgotten

by Halden_Halloran



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9285602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halden_Halloran/pseuds/Halden_Halloran
Summary: An underground arena.Controlled by a criminal with a shattered mind.And a past that broke it.Another influx of disappearing mammals, their fates much darker.The lives of Nick and Judy specifically targeted.And Nick's own past mental bruises rearing their heads just as he attempts to decipher his life, just as sparks about a specific dumb bunny bounce through his being.





	1. A Bone-Skulled Bunny

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to Zootopia: Resurgence of Pasts Never Forgotten.  
> I'm quite happy you took the time to check this out and, hopefully, it's the start of a read you find yourself enjoying.
> 
> For this writing, I tried my best to stick to how the original characters would actually act and what they would say in the situations I've laid out for them. To do this, I read through the script of the movie and looked at how it flowed and then adjusted the dialogue. Hopefully, I did well enough. In addition to this, I'm going to explore much more deeply into the mental states of the original characters, play off what was seen in the movie--especially in regards to Nick. 
> 
> I tried to write it in a way so that every single action, movement, and expressions of the characters have actual meaning behind it, though it may not be obvious--this definitely holds true of the villain.
> 
> My last piece of business before I let you loose upon this story:  
> eng050599 - Go check this guy out. He's on this very site now and is currently writing "Lost Causes and Broken Dreams".  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/7939489/chapters/18148795  
> His story not only deals with awesome original characters and a rock-solid plot but also the scientific side of Zootopia--specifically genetics and how they would affect such a society.  
> He assisted in editing what you're about to read and, actually, inspired me to give my own story a go.

A quiet exhale results in a soft wisp of vapor that shifts and shimmers under the gaze of the moon, coiling itself around the muzzle of a fox who glares up into the cab of the perpetrator.

“License and registration please,” he states, calmly and with a flat tone.

A long, tiring day here in Tundratown, with this being the final piece of business before the end of shift.

A head pokes out from the window and looks down upon the officer.

 _'A caribou. Young, female, and from the way she was driving, most likely an idiot._ ’

“You’re an officer?”

This pulls him a little out of his bored stupor. “And you’re a traffic violator. That’s generally how this sort of thing goes.”

“But you’re a fox.”

 _'Definitely an idiot._ ’

He sticks out his paws and glances at them, rotates them a few times, staring at them in mock shock before locking a half-lidded stare upon her and stating, still tonelessly, “Incredible. Your deduction skills are on par.”

“Look, I don’t know where you got that uniform or the lights on your car but-“

As she drawls on, he reaches towards his back pocket, pulls out a newspaper, unfolds it, and puts it in her face.

Baffled, she pauses before reading the headline. _Nicolas Wilde Becomes First Fox ZPD Officer._ When he lowers the newspaper, his free paw is pointed at his badge, the engraved name reflecting the grey lunar light.

“Oh! I am so sorry, Officer. I remember reading about you now.” She quickly hands over the documents, her gaze cast away.

He sighs. “Thank you.” And begins to strut back towards the cruiser, keeping to the path he had already plowed through the healthy layer of snow.

“Had to use it again?” Judy asks as he crawls into the passenger seat and begins running the license.

“Yeah but you should have seen the look on her face when I showed her.”

Judy gives him a glance, an apprehensive glance. He’s too focused on the laptop to notice. “You know, that’s why-“

“Yes, I know. But if the Bellwether incident didn’t help people recognize me, what will?”

“News is quick and short-lived. You being on the force and on the street interacting with mammals; that’s how they’ll begin to change.”

“Fluff, you say you’re helping me but you know what? I think you just like the warmth of the cruiser a bit too much.”

A half-grin is sent his way, a sly glint in her eyes. “We can always trade. You can do all of our paperwork and I’ll take care of the social interaction.”

Nick returns the look as he hops out of the cruiser—a soft thud of paws hitting snow—and walks back to the Caribou. “Alright, here’s your ticket. The information for it can be found on this pamphlet here. This is your traffic court.” He points to a section. “And the date of the proceeding if you choose to contest it.” When he looks at her, he notices her eyes aren’t on him or the pamphlet but staring upwards, into the distance. As he begins to turn to see what she’s looking at, he feels her hooves smack into the side of his head, pushing him and throwing him off balance. The next few beats are filled with an ever varied and layered orchestra. It begins with the gentle whizzing of a small object flying through the air, climaxes with a boom that tears the night, and finishes with the screaming of the caribou.

This eloquent piece has an effect equivalent to injecting adrenaline directly into Judy’s heart. Out of reflex, she grabs the radio transmitter. “This is 1-Lincoln-34. We have a 10-33 at the intersection of Bryer and Tobias, Tundratown, 10-3.”

“10-4 34, units are being dispatched to your location.”

She throws the transmitter down, draws her pistol while crawling to the passenger side, and jumps out, using the car as a shield to block the area where she thinks the shot originated from. Crouching, she begins making her way towards the front of the cruiser.

Screams rip through her mind, throwing away any form of normal thought and replacing it with ones that bring nothing but feelings of dread and rage.

 _‘Surely not? Not after everything.’_ She had been running the plate of the vehicle, not paying attention to her surroundings. When she heard the shot and looked up, she couldn’t see Nick over the hood of the cruiser. Abruptly, her ears perk as she hears footsteps.

“This way, this way. Hurry.”

The Caribou and Nick appear, crouching as well. She’s in tears and he is shaking. The screams within Judy’s mind quiet themselves and she lets loose a shaky breath of relief. The victory is short lived, however, when she spots the growing river of red upon Nick’s shoulder. “Nick, you’re hit. We need-“

“I’m fine Carrots, it just skimmed me.”

Doubt shows through as she looks at him a moment before resolving herself. She reaches back into the cruiser and grabs the first aid kit. “Nick, come here.”

“Judy… it’s just a-“

“Come here.” Nick does so reluctantly and she begins to apply bandages. “Do you know where the shot was fired from?”

“Somewhere behind me. Haley here was the one who saw the shooter.”

The sobs of Haley have not let up. “He-.”

“So the shooter was male?” Judy asks.

“Oh, a-actually. I’m not sure.”

“Okay, continue.”

“T-The shooter, I- I mean, I d-didn’t see him. Well, not exactly.”

Nick interjects. “What were you looking at right before the shot was fired then?”

She takes a deep breath, attempting to focus on the details and keeping calm. “W-well, you see. I saw a lump moving on a rooftop. It was extremely dim and I’m surprised I saw it at all. We caribou can- we can actually see UV light so that probably helped a bit but I couldn’t make out the shape of an animal.”

“But you pushed me. Surely it takes more than that to shove an officer.”

Abruptly, she breaks again, her sobs resuming. “I-I saw- I-saw the muzzle flash of the shot.”

Nick’s ears fold back as he swallows and Judy’s eyes widen.

A moment of silence passes, broken only by the soft whimpers of Haley and the rubbing of cloth as Judy finishes the patchwork. The wound would need more but that would have to wait.

Nick inhales and exhales deeply. “That means he is distant... really distant. Possibly between a half mile and a mile away.”

Judy pauses and looks at the ground, patting her foot. Nick has a feeling of what’s coming.

“Okay, since somebody has to see to Haley and you’re hurt, I’ll take the cru-.”

“No, Carrots.”

“We need to get this guy.”

“Carrots… No.”

She holsters her pistol and opens the cruiser’s passenger door.

“Judy. Wait until backup arrives.”

She hops in. “With every moment, this-,” she pauses to think of a sufficient word, “this scumbag is getting further away!”

The sound of distant sirens catches Nick’s and Judy’s attention. Haley doesn’t seem to notice. “See?” He gestures towards the sound. “They’re almost here. Besides, are you sure he’s even gone? He could be waiting for another shot.”

“Would you stand around for more cops after attempting to take the life of one? Haley, point to where the shooter was.” After considering something, she adds, “And in the small chance he is still there, don’t show yourself, just point in the general direction.”

Haley does so. “It’s tall and stands out.” A chill spreads through her body and she shivers. “Please be careful officer.”

“Thank-you, Haley.” Judy glances at Nick, their eyes meeting, a silent message passing from her to him before she closes the door.

“If you do this Judy, I’ll make sure the chief gives you parking duty for a month!”

She cracks the window, allowing her to talk to him without having to yell. “You do understand you’re my partner, right? You’d have to do it too, dumb fox.”

“You’re right, I _am_ your partner. Which is why _you_ should wait so _we_ can go together.”

“Nick, this guy has a sniper. In the city. That is unacceptable.” She flips on the sirens and screeches away.

“Two months then!”

A ripple of tightened muscles courses through Nick and his paws clench for a brief moment before he composes himself. The sirens are close now. They’ll be here shortly.

_‘That impatient, carrot-loving, numb-skulled, impulsive-.’_

“Should we get behind my car? Just in case?”

Nick jumps, remembering Haley. He sees that she has her eyes locked to the building where the shot originated. “I assure you, he’s gone. Especially after such a spectacular failure.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Let's just say that I'm a bit of an expert.”

“Oh...” She pauses and wipes away some tears. “Then why’d you suggest that? It had me worried.”

Nick doesn’t answer but makes his way back to where he’d been standing, aligning himself using his prints in the snow. He looks at the polished metal of her car, directly into the small, dark hole that now blemishes its surface. It would have plowed through his skull and into the vital meat of his brain; a clean shot. His spine tingles and, as his fur begins to rise, he slowly exhales. The breath flows from his muzzle and gets caught in a gentle breeze, riding it towards the sky. He can’t help but think of a soul leaving his body. He continues to watch it until the rays of moonlight take it into its soft embrace.

Haley stands near the back of her car, studying Nick, unable to think of what to say or what to do.

“Haley?” Nick whispers.

“Yes?” The word falls from her lips, not wanting to go out into the cold and bleak world.

Nick looks over at her. “I seem to have forgotten why I pulled you over... And it wouldn’t be very fair of me to make you keep that ticket, would it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you made it.  
> What'd you think? Like it? Hate it? Absolutely loathe it with every fiber of your being? Could you see yourself printing it out specifically to light it on fire while chanting something akin to what you'd chant to summon the very depths of hell?
> 
> Leave a comment below! Any comments are welcome. Even the ones that tear my heart out and smash it like my insect-filled, soulless, unflinching ex who- *cough*.
> 
> Never mind. Just leave a comment.


	2. Luxury Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so you made it to Chapter 2? That's a good sign! 
> 
> Anyways, a little bit of fun is thrown into the mix during this chapter. I bet you can't guess what it is. Just kidding, it's pretty gosh darn obvious but only after you've actually read the chapter. You know, how stories usually work...
> 
> Another shout-out to eng050599 for helping me edit this chapter. Check out his story "Lost Causes and Broken Dreams" here:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/7939489/chapters/18148795

* * *

 

A soft breeze blows through the abandoned brick structure, whistling against gaping holes where windows once shone, whispering secrets of the cold and the abandoned to Judy as she runs to the entrance of the building, guarded only by shattered sliding glass doors. She does not enter, however, but stands off to one side. She draws her pistol, turning on the light attached to it, and points it at the ground. As she breaches the facility, she presses a switch that causes the light to begin strobing at a quick interval, and quickly points her gun to various parts of the room. Hopefully, anybody in here would be blinded and disoriented before harm can be done. After checking behind the welcome desk, she declares vacancy. Behind the desk, an elevator bank flanks the room and, opposite this, a door leading to a stairwell. She enters this using the same protocol.

With every impact of her foot upon the stairs, her presence is announced through a loud echo that throws itself against the concrete walls. She attempts to climb as quietly as possible but this is almost impossible in her rush. Luckily, despite this building being the tallest around, it’s only five stories and, before long, she makes it to the door of the ceiling. She bursts through it, light strobing. As soon as she’s cleared of the doorway, she bounces to the right, swinging the gun in many different directions.

But there seems to be nothing.

After checking behind the various appliances of the roof—ventilation, climate control units, piping—Judy determines the roof to be deserted and switches back to the regular light.

The wind is stronger up here. It shifts the snow, blows it in circular motions and kicks it into the air. She shivers and walks towards the edge of the building closest to where the incident had taken place. Haley’s car is clearly visible as well as the four other police cruisers that have arrived. Their lights twinkle a soft red and blue in the silent night. If those colors hadn’t come to be associated with problems and violence, it’d almost be a peaceful sight.

She begins her search near the brick railing that lines the roof. Prints draw her attention first, prints with an odd shape and an even stranger pattern.

 _'Boots. They were wearing boots…’_ Either the suspect doesn’t like the cold or they were hiding what species they are. Her wager’s on the latter.

She follows the tracks and realizes they do not go towards the ceiling door but to another side of the building, to another edge. She peers over and finds a fire escape.

_‘Interesting escape route.’_

Hopping over, she runs down the rickety structure, not attempting to be quiet this time—there is no hope anyways. At the bottom-most floor the escape reaches, she shines her light towards the ground. Pure, unbroken snow reflects back. This baffles her before she makes a few guesses. Either the shooter is still in the building or he used the fire escape to go to a random floor and then used an internal staircase to find another exit. Again, her wager’s on the latter. She sighs.

 _‘The area will have to be searched.’_  She decides to return to the ceiling.

Back where she began, she continues to scan the area. It’s not long before she finds something else, something that the bright, powdery snow almost makes her miss, something otherwise insignificant. It’s a piece of paper lying half-embedded into the small, white dunes. Picking it up, she notices it’s actually a pack of papers stapled together and folded.

For a moment, her eyebrows arch in confusion as she unfolds the pack.

But only a moment, only until her light is fixed properly upon the name typed in bold letters across the top. Then they rise in gut-wrenching horror.

Nicholas Piberius Wilde

Below his name are a row of images, all of him, taken from different angles.

_‘How did they get these?’_

 She flips the sheet over.

The next one contains a description of not only his complete physical appearance but of some of his daily routines as well. She reads the bottom and her gut wrenches even further.

**(Payment)**

**Alive:  $1,250,000**

**Dead: $1,000,000**

_‘One million. Two-hundred. And fifty-thousand dollars.’_  

For many minutes she stares at the page, unaware of the cold, unaware of her shivering, unaware of anything but the ink and the symbols it forms. Eventually she comes to, just enough to flip to the next page.

And finds herself staring back.

‘ _Oh… no.’_

She flips again.

**(Payment)**

**Alive: $1,750,000**

**Dead:  $1,500,000**

The door to the ceiling bursts open. She shifts the gun, clicks on the strobe, and points it.

“Woah! Carrots, it’s just me.” Nick, too, has his gun out and aimed at her. They both quickly lower their weapons, he instantly beginning to rub his eyes. “Was the flashing necessary? No, seriously, I think I'm blind now.”

More officers rush through the door, all with their arms raised.

She remains silent.

“Judy,” he asks, walking towards her. “Are you okay?”

She holds the papers in an outstretched fist. He tilts his head, ears perked, and takes them.

As he looks at his image and information, his ears fold back. When he gets to Judy’s, they flatten and he swallows. As he slowly closes the pack, he sneaks a glance at Judy and, the moment that he sees that she is staring back with a quickly-twitching nose and wide, fear-filled eyes, he forces his ears to perk back up a minute amount and his mouth to work into the twitch of a grin. “I really don’t think you’re worth more than me. But hey, they’re criminals. They aren’t known for making logical choices, now are they?”

“Nick…”

“Now, Judy.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Me neither. What could you have _possibly_ done to make somebody want to blow perfectly good money?”

“Nick…”

Officer Wolford joins them. “The area is secure, Officer Hopps.” He pauses, then adds, “but it very well could not have been.” He glances at the papers in Judy’s hand. “Is that something you found?”

She swallows. “It is. But I’d rather have only Chief Bogo and whomever he deems necessary see this.”

“Very well. You may want to put it in a bag. Any potential identifiers could still be on the object.”

“Yeah, okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, I want you to just think about having a hit on you that large.  
> Now, think about it harder.
> 
> ...a little more...
> 
> Crazy, isn't it? Hurts a bit, doesn't it? I mean, seriously, now think of a single Washington sitting on your desk. And now try and imagine having a million and a half of those bad boys in your room. It'd probably be a pretty large stack. An annoying stack. Way more annoying than the stacks of those dirty clothes you leave everywhere. You filthy animal. Just kidding, you read two chapters of my work now. I couldn't be mad at you even if you kicked me in the face with a crowbar.
> 
> Alright, audios! Chapter 3 awaits!


	3. Dealing With the Loose Cannon--Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello there.  
> So chapter 3 now, I see. Awesome. I know it's not that big of a deal considering the shortness of these chapters but, eh, whatever. Don't crush my happiness. Besides, this one is longer.
> 
> Time for the Chief to make his appearance! A not-so-happy appearance...  
> But we also have our favorite vulpine and guess what? We get to poke around his head a bit!  
> *Children's screams of joy are heard*
> 
> That's right! Exciting stuff...  
> Alright, see you on the other side.

* * *

 

A soft knock against a door on one side, a burly voice resonating from the other. “Come in.”

Judy walks meekly and quietly into the office of Chief Bogo, the desk and book shelf towering over her.

“Ah… Officer Hopps. I’ve been meaning to have a little chat with you.” He motions towards the chair. “Sit.”

She climbs into the seat. “Sir, I know what you want to talk to me about and, please, before you do, I think you should see this.” She holds up a bag. ”They’re papers I found at the shooters location.” She places them and a box of rubber gloves onto the desk.

The chief considers her a moment before grabbing a pair of reading glasses off his desk and straightening them on his large snout. He dons a pair of gloves before opening the bag, grabbing the papers within, and unfolding them. As he begins to flip through, his face is rigid, difficult to read. When he gets to the reward amount for Nick, it loosens, his jaw goes a little slack, and his eyes widen a bit. His face continues to turn into putty as he reads through Judy’s info. At the end, he slowly folds the papers, staring blankly into a spot on his desk, and returns them to the bag. With two snaps, the gloves are off.

Looking over his glasses, he locks eyes with Judy, his face returning to rock.

“If I were to guess… Somebody’s pissed you ruined Bellwether’s operation. I’ve seen bounties, Hopps. I’ve never seen ones like these.”

Judy only returns his glare, ears collapsed, frightened that Bogo is as shocked as he is with his vast years of experience. If she relies on anybody to not show emotion, it is him. Bogo continues. “You do know this means that, if word is to spread—if it hasn’t already—every criminal and criminal organization is going to attempt to track you?”

A soft ‘yes, sir’ crawls from Judy’s lips like a dying breath and she looks towards the floor.

“Good. You also know this means you and Wilde will need to be watched 24/7 until this issue is resolved?”

“…yes. …sir.”

“Good. Do you know the one, tiny, additional thing this situation means for you?”

She glances up, meets Bogo’s eyes for a moment before they fall again. “No, sir.”

He abruptly slams a hoof down upon his desk, knocking over a pencil holder and causing the contents to fall to the floor, each utensil landing with a soft thud, the sound resembling the rushed footsteps of some small being trying to run from his wrath. “It means you need to start following protocols, Hopps!” He bellows. “You are now the largest target that I’ve ever had the displeasure of dealing with. Do _not._ Step _out_. Of _line. Again._ Understood? _”_ He grabs the now empty canister and returns it to where it was.

“Y-yes, sir.”

He unleashes a heavy sigh and slouches back into his chair. “I’ll arrange a hotel room for you and Wilde for tonight and the basic necessities will be supplied. You are not to return home. For anything. Understood?”

“Yes, sir. Thank-you, sir.” She thinks for a moment, a question swirling in her mind but unsure if she should voice it out of fear of prolonging this conversation. Bogo continues for her.

“Hopps,” he breathes. “You’ve proven yourself. There’s no need for unnecessary risks anymore.”

“That’s not what that was about. Not this time. I couldn’t just let somebody with a weapon like that run free.” _’They also shot at my partner, sir, they frightened me.’_

“I commend you for your focus on public safety.” A pause. “But, Hopps, a good cop cannot be good if they’re dead.”

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”

Before she can stop herself, the question blurts out. “Sir, do you think Doug is behind this?”

Bogo narrows his eyes in thought. “Perhaps he was the shooter but he’s not the one who put out the bounty. The reward amount is too great.” Bogo rubs an eye with his hoof. “Now, I was going to punish you for your crass behavior but, considering the circumstances, it seems that it will have to wait. But it is coming.” He gives a moment for the words to hit their mark. “Do you understand, Hopps?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you screw up again.” He clenches his hooves and straightens himself once again. “I will kill you myself if your own stupidity doesn’t do it first. _Do_ you _understand?_ ”

“Yes, sir.” She says, quietly.

“What was that, Hopps?”

She looks into his steeled glare, one filled with a burning rage. “Yes, sir!”

“Good. I’ll have the information for your room emailed to you. An officer will drive you and Wilde over.” He gets up from his desk, walks to the door, and opens it.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” she says, hopping off the seat.

“Now get out of here and finish your report. It’s late and I want to go home.”

She leaves the office and the door comes to a close with a loud thud, a momentary breeze brushing against her ears.

* * *

 

Officer Wilde, before entering the bathroom, shoots a glance at the closed door of Chief Bogo’s office.

 _‘Judy’s probably going through hell right now._ ’

He walks to a sink with a mirror mounted above it and pushes down on a tile. A soft click resonates and a step-ladder pops up from the floor. He climbs it, places his paws on the chilled ceramic, and stares at his reflection.

Everything collapses.

His usually perked ears fold back, his stance becomes slouched and without energy, his face droops, and his green eyes return no emotion. The wound on his shoulder—now with fresh stitches and a new bandage—aches and throbs and his tie hangs loosely.

_‘You look like shit.’_

He turns the tap, cups his hand under the faucet, and splashes cold water upon his face, causing him to flinch. He glances back into the mirror, drops rolling off his orange fur.

_‘That didn’t help.’_

He notices he’s shaking a little.

_‘Pull yourself together. You’ve dealt with worse.’_

He lets loose a breath that fogs the mirror.

_‘No, I haven’t. Yeah, there was the time a wolf – his name was Fernand, I believe—had figured out the gold watch I sold him was fake.’_

He chuckles a bit as he wipes a paw across the mirror to clear it. The wolf had physically come to his apartment, broke down the door, and beat the hell out of him. Major temperament problem. 

_‘And then, of course, the Mr. Big incident. But neither involved this amount of money.’_

He rubs his neck and breaks the gaze with himself.

_‘Neither of them involved that dumb bunny; at least, not to this degree.’_

Another sigh returns the mirror to its foggy state.

_‘A minimum of $1,500,00. They want her dead.’_

His gut wrenches. He closes his eyes as his ears flatten even more.  Turning around, he sits upon the top step and places his head within his lap.

_‘When did you grow so soft?’_

He chuckles again, gently.  ‘ _Were you ever not?’_

Nick hears the door to the bathroom start to open. Quickly, he jumps to his feet, wipes away the remaining water from his face, and straightens his tie to the best of his ability. Around the corner comes Officer Johnson.

“Wilde, how’s it goin’?

Nick’s classic sly grin appears. “Dodging bullets. As usual.”

Johnson smirks at him. “Really? Because the way I hear it, some little teen girl had to save your ass.”

“Huh. Is that so?” Nick leans against the wall. “How’s this. You and I can go to the sparring ring again.  We can talk about it there. Get the details straightened out.”

“You got lucky last time you orange flea-infested runt.”

“Oh!” Nick exclaims in mock shock. “So it was a runt who beat you? How embarrassing…”

Johnson chuckles, shakes his head, and struts towards a urinal. “You’re rough, you know that?”

Nick shrugs. “I try.” And begins walking to the exit.

“See you around Nicky.” Johnson calls out. “Try to not get shot at again, alright? You won’t always have a common citizen there to save you.”

“Wow… Seems like you’ve learned a few things from yours truly.”

He leaves the bathroom, the grin fading the moment he’s through the threshold; not even fun banter can improve his mood tonight. He liked Johnson a bit more than most of the officers. He had been, other than Judy and Clawhauser, the first to accept that a fox was actually a part of the force. Now, most treat him as a true member but there’s still the occasional slip in manners or treatment that reminds Nick that he still isn’t seen through quite the same lens as the others.

The closing of a door drags nick from his thoughts. Judy has just emerged from the Chief’s office and is walking towards the one they share. As he climbs the stairs, she disappears within the room. He makes it to the top—three stories up—and follows her in. She’s sitting at her desk. There’s only four pieces of furniture in the small office—two desks, facing each other and two chairs. Their computers also occupy the space, their glowing screens the only light Judy has on.

He sits down and their eyes meet. “Chief throw a fit?”

She pushes her arms out in a tired stretch. “Yes, actually. A bit. Not as bad as it could have been.”

“Sorry fluff, I’m siding with him on this one.”

“I couldn’t let a suspected sniper just run off.  Especially one that just tried to kill my partner.”

“Luckily for you he did.” Nick logs onto his computer. “So, what’s the chief’s plan for us?”

“Well, we have a hotel room for tonight since we can’t return to our homes.”

“Free, right?”

She rolls her eyes and goes back to typing her report.

Pleased with himself, Nick decides to pull up Doug’s file. On the way back to the station, Judy had spoken to him about her suspicion. Doug had also crossed his mind as a likely suspect. It was definitely one of the best leads they had. From what they had learned from Doug, he was definitely the type of guy who did things as long as it benefited him in some way. They had overheard his conversation on the subway. He seemed rather lax and didn’t care whether the operation he was a part of failed or not as long as he still benefited. In fact, when things started to go south for his crew, he completely abandoned the situation. The point is, a simple sniper job with a massive payout would be far too great of a temptation for him to ignore. Of course, there is no direct evidence Doug was actually the shooter but it did align well. Additionally, if he was, there is something that’s working in Nick and Judy’s favor; Doug is a wanted criminal. It’s not as if he can walk the streets freely.

From the corner of his eye, Nick sees Judy looking upon her own screen with an unfocused expression, eyes staring blankly ahead. Her nose is twitching at a much higher rate than usual. “Judy.” She jumps a bit and looks at him. “Are you okay?”

“Nick,” she sighs, leaning back in her seat. “I’m not going to lie. I’m frightened. Just one of the hits on our heads exceeds anything Bogo’s ever seen.” She rubs her arms as if cold and glances away a moment before steeling her gaze, locking her violet eyes back on him. “But Nick, I’m glad it’s us. We survived Bellwether. Not only survived but thrived. If anybody’s going to get through this, it’s us.”

Nick can’t help but grin as the raging torrent of his own anxiousness and stress, residing just beneath his calm exterior, becomes lesser as her words caress him.

She returns a soft smile.

Nick goes back to reading the file, he goes back to reading it and doesn’t notice a luminous spark growing within his chest. It’s faint, absolutely miniscule, he noticing it only on the subconscious level, but it’s there nevertheless.

 As he glances through the information, he declares it useless. There isn’t much about the guy and what is known simply doesn’t contain enough meat to spike any other leads. Doug is a professional, after all. He knows how to cover his tracks.

“Okay, my report’s submitted.” Judy states. “I’ll check my email and we can head out.”

“About time. I’m starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys,  
> Next chapter introduces an original character I cooked up. Well, actually, a few...  
> But one in particular is going to have a bit of a laugh. 
> 
> Like, she's a hoot in general. I'm talking life of the party.  
> You'll see.  
> Just click that little 'Next Chapter' button down there. Or, if you're reading this in the 'Entire Work' format... I have nothing to say to you, you freak.  
> Ha, just kidding. Man, I just have some pent-up hostility apparently.


	4. Shattered Body

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the first chapter that essentially shows the potential darkness for the upcoming story.  
> Don't worry, however, I like to keep my stories mixed. There'll be happy times, sad times, times of peace, and times of sociopaths.  
> *Children's screams of joy are heard again.*
> 
> Ha! Sociopaths always get'm riled up.  
> Anyways, have fun with this one.

* * *

 “Are the weapons loaded?”

A room built utilizing an underground cavern surrounds them. Water drips off stalactites, creating a pulse that echoes through the chamber.

“Yes, Mistress.”

In the center of this room lies a deep circular pit with walls polished and smoothed, made from the same white marble as the cavern. The jaguar, crouched atop the edge of this pit, chuckles and stares at the layer of glistening sand that fills the bottom, an insatiable eagerness oozing from her form. “Well, then…” Her voice changes into an abrupt yell. “What in the hell are we waiting for?” A spark of rage fills her eyes as she glances up at a bison standing over her, a spark that quickly subsides.

He says nothing but signals to two sheep. They stand behind a sheet of glass in a metal booth perched upon pillars high above the pit. They nod and begin poking at hidden controls.

Doors embedded into the walls of the pit, opposite of each other, slowly begin to open with a metal screech. Through one, sharp yelps of pain and frustration can be heard before a zebra appears, prodded along by a group of sheep wielding sparking pokers. Through the other, the yelps are replaced by roars and, rather than a zebra emerging, a lioness. As soon as the two are fully within the pit, the doors slam downwards and locks click into place.

The jaguar grins with satisfaction. From her crouched position, she looks up at the bison. “The cameras are rolling?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

The zebra and lion, after a brief moment of shock, after their eyes adjust to the blinding stadium lights beaming down upon them, spot each other.

“Henry?” The lion shouts, running towards the zebra. “Henry, holy shit. Are you okay?”

The zebra breaks into a run as well. When they meet, they embrace. “Yes, yes. I’m fine. Confused, but fine.”

The jaguar raises herself from her crouched position, looking up, again, at the still significantly taller bison. “Sweet, isn’t it?”

“Oh yes. Certainly.”

The couple break from each other and take in their surroundings. They spot the duo standing above them.

“Where in the fuck are we?” The lion shouts, walking towards the jaguar.

Henry follows and asks, in an unsteady voice, “Please, what is it you want with us?”

The jaguar grins. _‘They may be the best ones yet.’_ She glances at the numerous cameras mounted at regular intervals upon the wall of the pit. _‘And I’ll get to relive it over and over.’_

“Answer me, you bitch!” The lion screams, now right below the jaguar. She looks up at her, breathing hard, sheathing and unsheathing her claws.

 _Oh, so good.’_  She muses. “You are _quite_ the feisty one, aren’t you?”

“I swear, if you hurt me or any of my family…”

Henry begins to sob and grabs onto his mate to support himself. “P-Please, just let us go.”

The jaguar considers them a moment, grinning, her fangs gleaming in the light. “Would it make you feel any better if I promised that neither I nor my associates are going to hurt you?”

“A-a bit, yes.” The zebra stutters.

“Good. You have my word.”

“Cut the bullshit and tell us what you want.”

She laughs, her fangs gleaming even more. Glancing at the bison, “they want to know what I want, Cordarius. Is it really what _I_ want, though?”

“No, mistress. I would say it’s not.”

“Hear that? It has nothing to do with what _I_ want. I don’t want any of this, actually.”

 “Cut. The. Bullshit.”

“Fine.” The jaguar sighs sarcastically. “I’m here to collect a bit of data. Just a bit. And then this whole ordeal will be finished with! Simple, nothing to it.”

Henry continues to trimmer against the lioness, but it has lessened, a small spark of hope beginning to shine. “What…” He clears his throat. “What ordeal?”

The jaguar barks a laugh. “You’re right, my zebra friend, we might as well get on with it!”

Next to the Jaguar, Cordarius holds a hoof above his head and moves it twice.

“Alright, here’s what I want you two to do. Go back out to the center and look deeply into each other’s eyes, alright?”

They both stare at her, eyebrows arched. Puzzled. The lion speaks. “And why the hell should we do that? What could you possibly get fro-?”

With an abrupt movement, the jaguar pulls, from beneath a white coat, one that contrasts the black of her fur, a pistol and points it at the zebra. “I’d suggest you do as I say,” she states calmly, a grin stretching across her face as the last syllable leaves her lips.

Henry’s will shatters and he begins sobbing again. The lion gives the jaguar the look of death before pulling him against her. They begin walking towards the center.

“Good, good.” She says aloud before whispering to Cordarius, “Wasn’t even that difficult of a command.”

The couple arrive and do as requested. The lion looks into Henry’s reddened, puffed up green eyes and he into the worried grey ones of hers, feeling a mixture of slight embarrassment and a lot of pride at how calm she is compared to him. She takes a hold of his hooves. They lean in, and give each other a quick, nervous kiss.

“Henry, I love you.”

“I-I love you too. No matter what happens.”

“That’s very good you two! Now, I want you to keep that position. You. Lion-.”

“The name’s Whisper.”

“Whatever. You’re going to feel a small thump on your back. Don’t react to it. If you do, I’ll be forced to kill your mate. It’s only going to be a small pain and then it’ll all be over.” The jaguar chuckles.  “Simple!”

Whisper glances over at the jaguar, wide-eyed and confused.

A shot rings out, echoing through the cavern. Whisper and Henry jump. “I said keep your positions!” The jaguar screams, lowering her weapon away from the ceiling, a bit of dust and rock falling from where the bullet made impact.

Through her grip, Whisper can feel Henry’s trembling. They continue to look at each other, she trying to keep a brave face but failing and he looking at her with pleading eyes, eyes that have a question residing behind them, a question that asks what he had done to deserve this, what either of them had done to deserve this.

On the ledge, raises his hoof above his head once again and waves it once.

Whisper flinches as something impacts the area just below her neck, right where her shirt no longer provides cover. A few breaths pass and nothing happens. They continue to stare at each other, a bit of nervousness and confusion mixing together and multiplying. But then something shifts, it shifts like a top losing velocity upon its tip. Slowing, slowing, and then inevitably falling.

Henry watches in terror as he sees her pupils become dots and her breathing become stuttered. She lets go of his hooves, he attempting to catch her as she falls to the ground, and lands on all fours. For a moment, she looks up at him, “Henry-.” She lets loose a pained sigh. He feels a shutter crawl through her body. “Henry, run. You have to run.”

“Wha-? Wait, what do you mean?”

Whisper bares her teeth, a soft growl emitting from between her jowls.

“Whisper?”

Her face contorts into one of rage.

“No…” Henry breathes.

And she launches at him, a loud roar shattering itself against the cavern walls. Adrenaline blasts its way through his mind and he barely manages to dodge the savage predator.

“Did you see that Henry?” The Jaguar shouts. “Did you see how quickly she changed?”

Whisper lands, a cloud of sand thrown into the air, sparkling in the light, and quickly turns around. She begins to slowly walk, body hugging the ground, towards him. He had heard about this, everybody had. The chaos of the serum, what it could do to any animal who came into contact with it. It had been banned, made illegal. Anybody caught with it could face life in prison.

“Did you see what it did?” The jaguar’s voice rings out in mania. “It’s like a switch! And switches are easy to flip! Anybody can do it!”

Whisper draws closer as he continues to back away. “P-p-please, no. Dear, please.” He falls to his knees. “Oh my god, Whisper, my Whisper. C-Can’t you- Oh, no. Oh no-no-no-no.” His sobs are harder than previous, the syllables barely come to him.

The Jaguar watches the scene with hunger in her eyes. The lion about to pounce, the zebra’s mind about to shatter. But, despite this, he isn’t running. She finds it rather interesting.

“Y-You’re in there. I kn-kno- know you are.” The lion pounces again. Henry rolls but is too slow. Claws dig into his leg and he’s halted. “Whisper!” He screams in pain. “Please!” The lion uses her grip to pull him under her, he yelping, his limbs flinging out in all directions in an attempt to escape.

The Jaguar’s laugh cracks through the cavern and she begins shouting in a rhythm. “As easy as-a switch! Easy as-a switch!” After each sentence, she claps her paws together.

The zebra kicks Whisper in the jaw with one of his front hooves. For a moment she is stunned and he manages to loosen her grip. He begins to stand and run before another heavy paw smashes into his back and he falls flat against the ground.

Henry frantically rolls over, tears streaming down his cheeks, and looks into the unemotional eyes of the shell of his beloved. He looks at them, filled with dread but at the same time understanding that this isn’t her, that she cannot fight what she’s about to do. He does this and a calm peace flows into him, it flows into him and, as she lunges, maw agape, his mind has filled itself with this peace. The last thing he hears are the snapping of the cervical vertebrae within his own neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what an gigantic flea-bag, am I right? Like, who does that?  
> Told you she was the life of the party. 
> 
> ...if your party involves gallons of blood and chainsaws or something. And I'm not talking about one of those funny Halloween parties either. I'm talking real blood and real chainsaws. Generally, one leading to the other. You can probably guess which. 
> 
> Alright, well, we know our villain... to a degree. Yeah, that's right, to a degree. There's still many secrets about this little fungus-lined toenail that we haven't uncovered yet. Well, I mean, I've uncovered them. In my brain part. But I'm not telling you. Not even for the newest, shiniest 2017 nickel.


	5. Dreams of Dark and Light, of Known and Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh,   
> I think it's about time for a little something mentioned earlier to begin festering just a bit more. 
> 
> If you want to inquire about anything, feel free to leave a comment!   
> I always enjoy feedback, especially since I'm doing this, essentially, to help improve my writing.

Nick lies upon his naked stomach on the cold, wet floor of an unknown location. Darkness prevails and, even with his sensitive sight, no shapes can be distinguished. He attempts to stand but his muscles do not respond. It’s as if gravity has finally won its perpetual battle against him and has locked him in an inescapable embrace. He can only lie there, breathing softly, his inhales raising him a minuscule amount off the damp stone before the exhales brings him down once again.

Using a sense, some sense beyond that of physical organs, Nick discerns Something within the darkness. He cannot see it, hear it, or smell it. But he knows it’s there and it is growing closer. Fear grips him and he attempts to yank his body from the floor.

He knows it’s futile.

He tries each of his limbs and his toes.

He _knows_ it’s futile.

The heart. His heart. It beats faster now. He can feel it push against the cold floor with every life-extending thump.

The Something eases towards him, smoothly. Nick knows the gap is closing. He can almost feel its presence.

Almost.

Nick’s maw becomes agape as his breathing quickens to a pace on par with a sprinter. His chest rises and falls with it, growing sore from the strain of being held against the ground. His heart continues to beat the stone in quick succession as if attempting to tunnel, as if to escape its prison. The very prison it keeps alive.

The Something is about to strike, it’s swooping down upon him now.

Nick panics.

And jerks awake.

 

A few seconds pass, a few seconds of lying upon his bed, face half sunken within the pillows, panting heavily. He must have thrown himself around quite a bit for he notices the bedding lying upon the floor, exposing him to the chilled air of the motel room.

Relief floods into him.

_‘Just a nightmare, you idiot.’_

He shivers and raises himself to a sitting position.

_‘Just a simple nightmare.’_

Blackness, he quickly realizes, prevails here as well. A sharp moment of panic returns and he lunges for his phone upon the nightstand sitting between the two beds. He activates its flashlight, being careful to not point it towards Judy.

_‘Just a simple night mare, you coward!’_

The soft breath of light ricochets through the small, cheap room. A table sits in a corner with two chairs and a television rests atop a worn dresser. On the opposite side of the room, next to Judy’s bed, two doors rest. One leads to the main hall and, the other, the bath amenities. This particular hotel is built for medium-sized mammals who prefer silence and no light while they sleep, a remnant of the age of burrow-dwelling.

Nick sighs and rubs his snout with the index and thumb digits of his paw, cautious of the claws. He flips the phone and glances at the screen, it auto-set for night mode so as to not blind him, and checks the time.

 _‘6:47AM… Wow....’_ He sets the phone face-down upon the naked bed, the light beaming against the ceiling. _‘At least I don’t have to go into work.’_

Bogo had given them the day off so he could figure out where to put them. He didn’t want them patrolling the open street.

A soft snort emits from the neighboring bed. Nick lets loose a gentle chuckle as he glances at Judy’s form, blankets pulled almost completely over her head. Two long ears with black tips poke out, bent a little as they brush against the wall. Nick watches as the form rises and falls, the delicate sound of whispered breath accompanying the movement. He watches for many minutes, his mind clearing, calming; he watches and he begins to explore a question that he’s explored often.

_‘How had this creature broken through?’_

His answered remains the same. _‘By being relentless.’_

He shakes his head lazily. _‘Relentless at becoming a cop; relentless at solving the Bellwether case; relentless at everything.’_ It was the second one that had done it. Her determination to solve it had sucked him in and it hadn’t let him go.

‘ _At least she’s relentless in ways that helps this city.’_

He yawns and stretches out his arms. Going back to sleep begins to appeal to him.

But there is one area where she keeps herself more restrained—discussions of the past. She has never asked about his, instead waiting for him to reveal it. Never has she asked more about what he said on the gondola.

Nick blinks, squinting his eyes a little in thought. Perhaps it is her way of attempting to see every animal on equal footing, a way for her to keep past mistakes from biasing her views on an individual. He has to admit, whether that’s the reason or not, he admires it.

Another yawn escapes him.

As he continues to look upon her gently moving form, his mind slipping back into the waiting arms of sleep, his eyelids failing, the luminous spark grows a little more. But just a little. It still has, within his mind, the equivalence of a small lichen on the bottom of a turbulent ocean, clinging to a rock, whipping in the currents. What’s interesting about the lichen, however, is that, despite such abuses and miniscule size, it still produces oxygen and absorbs light.

It still has an effect, albeit microscopic, much like the spark.

And, with Nick’s mind in this tired state, his defenses are weak and the luminous spark finds its opportunity. Nick looks upon her and a thought bursts out.

‘ _How long has it been since I’ve been held within the arms of a female?’_

His eyes snap open, all tiredness draining. He cringes and quickly glances away, ashamed.

‘ _What the hell is wrong with you?’_

He hops from his bed, landing with a delicacy akin to a cat. Grabbing a shirt off the floor, he dons it and walks to the single window. This being the motel it is, the window is covered with a thick hatch that slides into the wall. This blocks every speck of light from entering, even during the day. Nick shuts off his phone’s light and, with a little force, cracks the hatch. Although attempting to keep the room dim, the colors of the flame burst in, spreading themselves across the white walls, across the table with its chairs, across the television, across his own face. Momentarily, he is blinded, his night-sensitive eyes burning before they adjust, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints. Then he glances towards the heart of the city; a city on fire. Vibrant reds and yellows, like those of autumn leaves, gleam off shining towers as they bathe in the rising inferno of the sun. Nick stares upon the scene, he stares upon it and he attempts to burn the thought from his head.

 

Judy opens her eyes, confused by the rich hues before quickly spotting Nick leaning against the window sill. The sunrise bounces against him, mixing with the rusty red of his fur, mixing and almost blending him in completely. Curiosity sparks and, rather than calling out a greeting, she continues to watch. His ears are folded, the black tips pointed back towards her. She wonders what he’s unhappy about.

‘ _Probably the situation they’ve gotten themselves into.’_

She thinks a moment.

‘ _No. That doesn’t feel right.’_

Abruptly, he turns, and sees that she’s not only awake but looking in his direction. For a brief moment, a moment so brief that Judy wonders if she’s mistaken, Nick’s ears suddenly stand straight and his eyes widen; it’s as if fear has gripped him. But he recovers in the next beat, a grin spreading across his face.

“Good morning, Fluff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what?  
> There's a parallel between Nick's slight PTSD shown in the movie and his nice little dream he's had. This parallel can be summarized pretty briefly. 
> 
> And what's this? Officer Wilde seems to be having some feelings, feelings that he isn't particularly happy about. Don't worry, within his own mindset, there's plenty of reasoning behind why he wants to suppress such feelings. Silly bugger. 
> 
> Alright, as always, I hope you enjoyed and will continue to enjoy!


	6. The Dealings of Chief Bogo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, time for the Chief to make his appearance.  
> And Clawhauser.  
> He's going to uncover some rather interesting things about the chaotic situation beginning to unfold. 
> 
> Also, a reference to "Lost Causes and Broken Dreams" in this chapter as well. Basically, a little nudge to eng050599.
> 
> Anyways, have at it guys! Enjoy!

The Chief sits at his desk, a folder and its contents spread across the surface. He holds his chin in contemplation as he studies an image. It’s of a lion—female, late thirties, grey eyes, and a darker coat than what is typically associated with the species. He shifts his attention to another sitting beside it. This one shows a zebra—small build, mid-thirties, and green eyes. They are a couple and a rare one at that. Prey and predators typically don’t mix. There is a lot of social pressure not to, a _lot_ of social pressure. In fact, though not as bad, interspecies relationships in general are seen in a negative light by many of Zootopia’s citizens. An argument used by those who hold such a view typically follows a certain path—something about the inability to bear offspring plainly showing the unnaturalness of these pairings

He doesn’t pay attention to any of that. His job is to get these mammals back alive.

But it can provide clues as to how they disappeared. Hate crimes against these couples are uncommon but they do happen. The one problem with this case, however, is that crimes of that sort are generally messy.

Very messy.

See, the typical mindset of those who target minorities involve an urge to make a point.  Usually, in the form of a display—the bodies being strung up and a message written on a wall, a torture being filmed and posted on a public website, or something similarly shocking. As long as it tells other mammals, ‘hey, this is you if you do this.’ As far as he is aware, nothing of that sort has happened yet. The lion, her mate, and even the vehicle they were driving had disappeared without a trace while on their way to…

Bogo glances at the name.

' _The Honeywell Genetic Counseling Centre.’_

Some place filled with a bunch of eggheads, he has no doubt.

Anyways, whether or not this is actually a hate crime, the job was clean, a fact that continues to amaze him. Surely it wasn’t easy to control both a zebra and a lion, two mammals not known to be light. Even tranquilized or shot, that would still be a lot of dead weight. And what the hell happened to the vehicle? This was almost certainly done by a group, a group who knew precisely what they were doing.

Clawhauser abruptly bursts into the office, the chief jumping in his seat. “Chief! Here are the files you requested!” He shouts, bouncing to the desk, a hefty number of folders between his paws.

Bogo grabs the stack with a bit of aggression. “Have I not, repeatedly, told you to knock?”

“Oh, right, sorry sir!”

Bogo grunts. “Anyways. Thank you. That is all I need.”

“Yes sir!” He says, grabbing the handle of the door in preparation to leave. As he begins to close it, however, he stops, a gigantic smile suddenly upon his face. “Sir, did you hear her new album?” He sighs musingly. “Oh. My god!”

“Clawhauser! I’m busy!”

“Oh, of course! Sorry, sir!”

Just as the door is about to click shut, Bogo mutters, just loud enough for him to hear. “But, I did.”

Clawhauser lets loose a squeak of excitement before hopping away.

Bogo snorts and rolls his eyes before looking at the requested files. As chief, he typically doesn’t deal with cases directly unless it’s exceptionally violent or odd—like the couple who vanished. Generally, he simply glances through the reports that his officers fill out. This is due to the impossibility to keep track of every detail of every crime that his department deals with.  But, with the recent influx of missing mammals, once _again_ , he had decided to look for patterns and, to do that, he needed all missing cases. Well, at least the ones within the past few months.

' _A lot of pointless sifting.’_ He thinks to himself as he opens the first folder and, after seeing a picture of a calf with the red words ‘Closed’ plastered across it, tosses it aside. The vast majority of these will be on pups, kits, and other young ones who decided to go for a stroll without telling their parents, on the elderly who wander off because of some mental disability, or on a mentally disabled individual in general, elderly or not. These types of cases typically close within a few hours after being opened and, more importantly, no longer provide any purpose other than getting in his way.

As he continues his primary search, splitting the files into two stacks—‘potential leads’ and ‘no potential’—his mind begins to wander as minds completing menial tasks tend to do.

Not for the first time, the event of yesterday comes to the forefront of his thoughts.

Normally, he’d seriously consider putting Hopps and Wilde on the case of the missing couple despite she not actually having the title of ‘Criminal Investigator’ and he being inexperienced. However, considering that Wilde had almost eaten a bullet, it put them out of the running.

He grunts.

Besides, Hopps still shows signs of reckless tendencies. He had hoped that after she had been fully accepted by those on the force, those tendencies would die. Obviously, they haven’t yet and, despite her reasoning for it, she needs to straighten up. Whoever’s after them is serious.

Cops receive death threats. That’s something that isn’t new. But this is in an entirely new league, a league beyond anything he’s witnessed. The amount of money is either a bluff or somebody with a lot of influence is targeting them. Both are quite frightening. The first means the suspect is utterly insane to try and swindle the entire criminal population. The other still means insanity but now it’s coupled with power. Additionally, the first means the individual who put out the bounty could literally be anybody and, the other, the suspect list becomes quite a bit slimmer. As in, likely somebody who had been either under Bellwether or agreeable with her policies. And that somebody would also need to have the capacity to hold one _hell_ of a grudge. 

_‘Perhaps a political partner who had relied on Bellwether for their own power?’_

He grunts again and makes a note to check her past affiliates. 

Hopefully something will turn up once the Sherlocks are finished investigating the scene.

Bogo looks at the files that remain to be sorted and is glad to find that he’s made good progress. Of course, the stack of the useful ones is significantly shorter but at least it’s something. He continues the process and his mind wanders once again.

Hopps, through the now many months of working together, has grown on him. There is now a warm spot for her and, he can’t deny it, one for the fox as well. How she had managed to convince the guy to join the force is something that still confuses him; hell, it still confuses most of the other officers as well. Their partnership has certainly become something of a legend around not only the department of precinct one but practically all of them. In addition to being the first bunny and fox officer, it is the first time that many mammals, including himself, have seen the two species working together with success.

A few pangs of guilt hit him as he remembers the way he had treated her. It was only due to her size, really. It didn’t matter that she was a bunny—of course, it hadn’t helped either—but, really, she could have been any small mammal.

He sighs.

It didn’t make his actions any less disrespectful. She had certainly proved him wrong and, because of that, he had forced himself to accept Wilde’s application without question. After all, the guy had also received fantastic marks during his time at the academy—not as good as Judy’s, if he recalls correctly—but ones that definitely qualified him for precinct one.

Clawhauser bursts through the door and, like the previous time, the chief jumps.

“Clawhauser!” He roars.

“Oh, sir! I’m so sorry!”

“Go back out. And knock.”

“Yes, sir!” Clawhauser leaves, the door shutting with a soft click. Then, a gentle rapping comes from the other side.

“What. Is it?”

The muffled sounds of his voice come through. “Sir, another missing mammal report just came in! I thought you would want to see it considering, you know, you asked for-”

“Yes, yes. Come in.”

The door reopens with much less velocity. Clawhauser walks over with a calmness much unlike him and lays the file on the chief’s outstretched hoof. “Now,” Bogo breathes, “was that so hard?”

“Absolutely not, sir.”

“Good. Now get out.”

Clawhauser begins to leave and, once again, stops before the door is completely shut. “Sir, what’d you think of ‘The Fire Within’?”

“Oh for god’s sake Clawhauser. Would you just let me work?”

Clawhauser continues to grin at him through the crack.

The chief snorts, then whispers. “If I tell you it is one of my favorites, will you please leave me the hell alone?”

The cheetah lets loose a squeaky laugh. “Mine too!” And slams the door shut.

Bogo leaves a mental note that, if Clawhauser ever breaks his promise and tells anybody about his affinity for Gazelle, he would put him in the ring with McHorn.

For five rounds. At the minimum.

While filming it.

He grabs the newest file and pops it open. A Cheetah as well, but not the one he actually wishes were missing.

The classic golden coat with spots covers the feline. Black lines start at the forehead, make their way past the dark auburn eyes, and flow around the muzzle. Average build but above average height; male in his mid-twenties. One Yunton Alexander.

Bogo stares at the name and something clicks within his mind.

_‘Alexander… Alex… ander.’_

He grabs the files in the ‘potential lead’ stack and begins flipping through them. After many minutes, he finds the one he’s looking for.

_‘Jacob Alexander.’_

Wildebeest. Male. Late twenties. Brown body with black upon his face. A spiked mane typical of the species rolls down his neck. He checks the ‘family relations’ section and reads down the list. Under ‘Spouse’, Yunton is listed.

Another prey and predator relationship.

_‘Fascinating.’_

He decides to search back through the ones he’s already sorted. This time he pays particularly close attention to the surnames. Many additional minutes pass but, with relative quickness, he finds another couple. Again, prey and predator in which the individuals went missing around the same time. It's only one but still more than enough. Three couples total thus far. That is not acceptable.

He switches back to the stack that hasn’t been sorted yet. Very few remain and most, as usual, prove useless. However, towards the bottom of the depleting pile, a wolf with a pure white coat catches his eye.

Male. Mid-thirties. Average height. Medium-build. And eyes of sapphire that glare into the camera with a burning intensity.

Damon Maximus is his name.

Bogo is about to place the file on the ‘potential leads’ stack. But, just as he makes one final glance at the names of the family, something small, but significant, screams out to him. It’s the father’s name. Specifically, his surname. Bogo raises an eyebrow and his mouth opens as confusion sweeps him.

_‘This… could be an issue.’_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh. Well. What could possibly have shocked Chief Bogo?
> 
> Well, you're just gonna have to see. Gosh darn it.  
> Alright, guys, next chapter is a bit similar to Chapter 4 in terms of gruesomeness.  
> Hey, I mean, come on, I have to make sure you loathe the Jaguar with every fiber of your being before things get too crazy.  
> I also have to make sure you understand, completely, how utterly insane she is! 
> 
> One last thing. I'm a little worried.  
> I may have to tone it down a bit for the fanfiction site. Not sure yet. I don't want an M rating, really. But it may have to switch to that if it gets too out of hand. It all depends, I suppose. I'm not going to censor myself. Don't worry about that. If it comes to an M, it comes to an M. Whatever.
> 
> And it's not even like it's too violent. It's mainly the copious amounts of cursing Whisper does. But I don't want to censor her. That's her character. And, come on, who the hell wouldn't cuss quite a bit in her situation?
> 
> UPDATE: Well, only half of Chapter 6 uploaded for some reason. It's fixed now but what the hell? My internet's been flaky recently and I simply don't think it copied something over correctly. Anyways, sorry about any confusions this may have caused. I'm just embarrassed I didn't catch it sooner.


	7. Shattered Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, Friday update! I think Friday's going to be the day I shoot for when it comes to updating. I feel like I should get some kind of schedule down to some degree. With college rearing its head fully now, I do think it's best. Besides, I know that, when I'm a reader, knowing when it's going to be updated is always nice. More than likely, if I do miss a Friday update, it will definitely be during that weekend. That'll give me the week to work on a chapter before posting it... yeah, that sounds good. 
> 
> Well, with that said, on to the story!

The cold metal table presses against the lioness’s back and restraints of a thick, leather-like material grabs her limbs. She’s tilted at a sharp degree, allowing her to look out over the bare room. The fur upon her face is matted, stuck together from dried tears. Concrete walls surround her, uninterrupted except for a thick, windowless door that now begins to open.

The jaguar steps through in one movement, a grin flashing her white fangs.

The lion doesn’t miss a beat. “Where is he? Where the _fuck_ is my husband?”

“Do you honestly believe that talking to your captor like that will get you answers?”

”Please!” Tears begin welling up again. Whisper attempts to fight it, not wanting to show her weakness. “Why are you doing this? Please just tell me where he is!”

“You’ll be happy to know that, as promised, neither I nor my associates have laid a paw on him.”

“Then, please, just let me see him. Just once!”

The jaguar cracks a laugh, a laugh that whips at Whisper, whips through her spine and causes it to tingle and to curl. “Be patient, you’ll see him shortly.” She leans close to Whisper and pats her on the top of the head. She flinches but the restraints keep her in place. “I just wanted to come by and commend you for your excellent performance.”

“My- what? What are you talking about?”

“You gave me all sorts of juicy little bits for my mind to chew on.” As she talks, she walks around the table, staying barely within Whisper’s sight. “You and that zebra. All sorts-“

“What are you talking about?” Whisper shouts.

From the corner of her eye, she sees the jaguar make a quick movement. The cold steel of a barrel is suddenly pressed against her temple. “Do _not_ interrupt me. Do not _ever_ interrupt me.”

The welled tears break over and stream down her face. “Okay, okay. I-I won’t, I promise.”

“Do you?”

Whisper pauses as a surge of anger begins flowing through her and mixes with the soul-crushing lake of distress turning in her stomach.

“Do you?” The jaguar screams.

“Yes!”

The gun is pulled away.

“You bitch!” She shouts as the anger erupts.

The jaguar’s crackling laugh is let loose again. “You’re a fun one. Most of the others just wet themselves and leave it at that.”

The lioness’s heart sinks. “Others?”

“Well...” She grins. “Shouldn’t have mentioned that. Ah, oh well. Doesn’t matter.”

“What others?”

The jaguar uses a claw to gently stroke down Whisper’s face. “Sh- Sh- Sh- Don’t worry about that now.”

Whisper clenches her paws. “They will find you.”

“Who? The police?”

“Yes.”

The Jaguar pauses and locks her sapphire eyes to her, her face contorted in disgust. “And what makes you think I give a damn?”

Whisper is stunned into silence, stunned not from the words but from the way they are stated—with the utmost sincerity.

She leans in next to Whisper’s ear and says, with delicacy, her breath brushing against her fur, “That’s right, I don’t care.” Her voice rises a little. “I almost wish it.” She jumps back, her voice continuing to grow. “I almost wish they would bust that door down right now and put a bullet between my eyes!” By the end of the sentence, she is yelling, her voice echoing through the small chamber.

Silence ensues and, briefly, Whisper can do nothing but listen to the vanishing resonances as she attempts to piece together this broken creatures motivations. Eventually, a small, weak voice escapes her.

“What the hell happened to you?”

The jaguar’s grin reappears. “You’re right, my lion friend, it’s about time we move along!”

A minuscule sense of familiarity eases through Whisper but she’s unable to place it.

The Jaguar reaches for something out of Whisper’s sight, something located above her. She fumbles with it a bit before a black box appears. It’s a screen attached to an arm mount much like the ones used to hold surgical lighting.

Whisper looks at it in confusion. “What the hell is this?”

“Everything will become clear…” she abruptly begins staring blankly at a wall, “…and not clear, shortly.”

“Please, I just want to see my mate; I just want to see Henry.”

The jaguar chuckles. “Just sit tight and enjoy the show, alright?”

“Please!” Shouts Whisper.

She begins walking towards the door…

“I just want to know he’s alright!”

 …pries the heavy piece of metal open…

“Is that too much to ask?” She pleads.

…glides through it…

“I will fucking kill you! I hope you know that!” Whisper promises.

…and slams it shut.

The tears return and she lets loose a powerful roar. “I will kill you! I will kill you and everybody who works for you! Do you understand?”

The jaguar casually struts around the outside of the room, through another door that leads to a small hallway, up a flight of stairs, and into a booth filled with various electronic equipment that hums and buzzes. From here she can see, through a window, the underside of the tilted table; from here, Whisper is unable to see her. The jaguar glances at a screen embedded into a panel. Whisper’s face shows with utmost clarity and in vivid color. She presses a button and a recording icon appears in the upper-left corner.

The jaguar smiles.

She flips a switch and the mounted screen within the room activates.

“What are you doing?” The lion shouts.

The jaguar presses another button and the screen beams down an image.

Whisper looks upon it with confusion before she, with horror, recognizes what she’s seeing. It is the last thing she remembers; she and Henry are standing within the middle of the pit, looking upon each other.

“What the hell?”

The smile widens as the jaguar presses one final button, a button with a sideways triangle on it.

The image begins to move.

Whisper stares with both fear and interest, drawn in by the sense of mystery, a mystery involving the only one who can inflict this ache upon her heart when missing.

_What the hell happened?’_

She sees something impact her upon her back, something that seems to instantly vaporize. It hits with a harsh thud.

 _‘Yes, that’s right.’_ The memory of a small pain between her shoulder blade returns. For a brief moment, nothing happens. Whisper can only hear the shaking breaths of her and Henry through speakers she assumes are hidden throughout the room. But then, she notices a wave of rippling muscles coarse through her.

 ** _“Henry-.”_** She hears herself let loose a pained sigh. **_“Henry, run. You have to run.”_**

Utter confusion grips her mind, confusion and fear. She barely remembers saying those words and, the way they’re said… Her voice sounds nothing like her own.

 ** _“Wha-? Wait, what do you mean?”_** He sounds just as terrified but she still finds his voice soothing and can’t help but focus on every syllable.

She sees herself bare her teeth and let loose a growl.

With an abruptness similar to two trains colliding at a hundred miles an hour, realization explodes through her mind, it explodes and rips her soul into small, fleshy chunks. She roars a roar unlike any she’s ever released. It’s not great and powerful like a lion’s typical sound. It tears and scraps, a high-pitched screech layers upon it, and, as it bellows forth into the confined room, blood moistens the back of her throat.

 ** _“Whisper?”_ ** So innocent. His voice sounds so innocent.

“Henry, for fuck’s sake, run!” She yells to the empty room as she begins pulling against the restraints.

**_“No…”_ **

She sees herself launch at him, launch with a viciousness that she’s _never_ been able to muster. But he manages to doge it, a very small amount of relief coming to her. “Run you bastard! Why aren’t you running?”

She hears the damn bitch shout something in the background, something she is unable to make out. She sees herself draw closer for another attempt, her body hugging the ground, death within her eyes.

Standing in the booth, the Jaguar stares into the monitor, at the face of Whisper. She stares at it without emotion.

“Henry…” she sobs, a flood of tears sliding down her cheeks. “Just run! Damn you! Run!”

 ** _P-p-please, no. Dear, please”_** She sees him fall to the ground, to his knees. **_Oh my god, Whisper, my Whisper. C-Can’t you- Oh, no. Oh no-no-no-no.”_** Whisper watches this and she whimpers, heart beating in thick, fast beats. She’s mesmerized by what she’s seeing now, fear has utterly gripped her and frozen her muscles.

 ** _“Y-You’re in there. I kn-kno-know you are.”_** She pounces and she sees her claws grab a hold of his leg, leaving long, bloodied gashes. Her mind locks itself out. Everything doesn’t seem real. What she’s watching is somebody else. **_“Whisper! Please!”_** The bitch begins to laugh and she screams some more inaudible sounds.

Then she sees Henry kick her in the face, causing her to stumble. “Dear, oh shit… please,” she pleads, a spark of hope reigniting. “Get away!” She pants. “Please, get away!” Her muscles unlock and she pushes forward against the restraints with every bit of energy in her worn body. It hurts but she doesn’t notice. “Get away dammit!”

Another one of her paws smacks into his back and brings him down flat on his stomach.

“NO!” She lets loose another broken roar, her throat tearing further.

She sees Henry turn over and stare into her eyes.

“Don’t give up! Don’t you _fucking_ give up!”

As she sees herself lung, she turns away and closes her eyes as tightly as possible. But there is no way to block the sound, the sound of her mate’s neck snapping.

For a brief moment she sits there in her created darkness, unmoving and unthinking, eyes clamped.

Then, like a bomb, a noise blasts itself through the room. It can only be compared to the screech of a banshee, a banshee being slowly ground into small pieces. It’s coming from the lioness’s maw, not that anybody who heard the sound would believe it. She continues to scream as more blood explodes within her throat. Like her mind, her vocal chords shatter. She thrashes against the restraints, tearing her fur and burning her skin as they skid across their surfaces.

She wails and wails and, even as her vision begins to blacken, she continues to wail. Even as the blood works its way into her mouth and falls out over her chin, dripping upon and down her chest, she continues to wail. Even as wounds open up on her thrashing arms and legs, she continues to wail.

For quite some time thereafter, she continues to wail.

Even after her voice gives out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was something.  
> Wasn't it?  
> Quite...something. 
> 
> So yup, all sorts of loco stuff for Whisper. But, perhaps, things will start looking up for her...  
> Maybe.  
> Who knows.  
> Unfortunately, the damage has been done. She's not going to recover from this one easily if she does at all. Think about waking up one day to find that, in your sleep, you killed the one person you cared most about. It'd be brutal.  
> And then being forced to watch yourself do it?  
> Hell no.
> 
> To switch the subject:  
> Next chapter we return to the lives of Nick and Judy. Which, honestly, that one may be posted earlier than next Friday. It's already written and, for the most part, edited. I'd like to keep some sort of buffer going but I think I'll be fine if I post it a bit early.


	8. Vocal, but without Thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... I went ahead and decided to upload another chapter pretty quickly after the last. Again, this is primarily due to me thinking that I don't need as large of a buffer. This could end up biting me in the rear but, eh, we'll see I guess. Anyways, some little issues and such are going to happen to our favorite Vulpes and Leporidae.

Judy fixes her eyes of amethyst upon the wooden bridge before her. It stretches between two great trees that reach towards the sky like the arms of a giant grasping for the hidden sun. Despite she and Nick being far above the ground, a delicate mist swirls about their heads, casting a grey filter on every plant and shimmering lamp. It’s not the grey of depression, she notes, but of mystery, of the blurring between black and white. It’s the color of complexity. She smiles. Unlike the previous visit, she’s able to study such details with extra vigor. This district, she decides, truly is one of her favorites.

Nick begins to walk across the bridge and she follows, her gaze never staying in one place. Using the gaps between the rope railings, she glances downwards to look upon a moss-filled lake hundreds of feet below. With engines humming, crafts glide across the water. They cast a soft, yellow light from lanterns mounted, by use of netting, to their bulwarks. Wooden buildings with roofs sloped like the crests of waves line the shore of this lake, aging docks protruding from their fronts.

“Judy.”

She looks towards him.

“I’ll show you another.

She shifts her focus to a point ahead of Nick and spots a tiger walking casually towards them. She rolls her eyes. “Would you stop it?”

Just as the tiger is about to pass, Nick pretends to trip and falls into her.

“Oh. I am so sorry,” he stammers.

The tiger is thrown off a moment before quickly smiling. “Oh, that’s quite alright.”

Nick grins. “It’s just… I’m absolutely terrified of heights.”

With a nervous chuckle, “don’t worry, you’re not the only tourist to say that.”

“It’s that obvious, huh?”

“If it makes you feel any better, you don’t stick out as badly as some I’ve seen.” The tiger says as she begins to walk away. “Now, take care! Wouldn’t want you to fall.”

Nick bows slightly, his most luscious grin spread across his face as she turns away.

Judy stares at him, slightly confused. But then, Nick reaches into his pocket and pulls from it a wallet she’s never before seen.  Anger and shock bubble up and, as she’s about to correct the situation, Nick beckons the tiger. “Miss!” She turns back around to see him holding it out towards her. “Is this yours? I saw it lying on the planks. It must have fallen when I bumped you.”

“Oh! Yes, yes it is.” She walks over and Nick hands it to her. “Thank-you very much. Really, I would have been screwed.”

“Now, don’t thank me. After all, it _was_ my fault.” Nick places a paw upon his chest as he says this. “I’m just glad it didn’t fall between the boards.” He states with concern Judy knows to be fake.

“Oh definitely, me too.” She smiles and, as she walks off, “Again… thank-you.”

Nick turns to see Judy staring at him with a disapproving glare, a foot thumping the ground to a slow rhythm.

“Good, wasn’t it?” He grins.

“I never took you for a thief.”

“Uh, no-no.” He says, turning his back to her—his tie flipping—and resuming the journey across. “That’s exactly how it would have gone. With additions, of course.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed.”

Judy rolls her eyes again and follows.

“You see, normally, I’d be dressed in not-as-fine attire.”

“And how would that help?”

“I’d also be pushing around Finnick.”

Understanding comes to Judy. “Oh, you pretended to be a poor father.”

“Exactly.”

Confusion hits Judy again. “Wait, so how _would_ that help?”

“Fluff. A poverty-stricken father who obviously cares _deeply_ about his son returns your wallet with everything still inside. What do you do?”

And here, again, returns the understanding. “Tip him.”

“Bingo.”

 Judy thinks a moment, pondering. “So, you never just kept them?”

“There’s a reason you never took me for a thief. I wasn’t one. I was a con-artist.”

“Is there a difference?”

Nick halts and peeks back at her, his green eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before they dash away. “Big difference. A thief steals outright. Con-artists outsmart their associates. Picture what I just did. If I had simply stolen that wallet, she wouldn’t have known until much later. If, however, I had conned her into giving me some of her money, she would have had the opportunity to use her _own_ knowledge and experience to catch me. Understand, Carrots?”

She thinks a moment, interested in what he’d said. Never before had she thought of it like that. “Yeah, I think. So you’re saying conning is like a duel.”

“Well, more of a test.”

“Hmm… Alright, but it’s still wrong…”

He chuckles.

“At least you had a code of ethics… even if morally grey.”

He sends a grin her way, again glancing away quickly when their eyes meet. “Well…” He says in mock admiration. “Leave it to you to find the positive.”

She glares at the back of his green shirt with confusion, her ears starting to droop.

_'He hasn’t looked at me directly all day.’_

Her mind goes back to that morning.

' _That’s when it had started. This weird… whatever this is.”_

She thinks of the look he had given her.

_'He had seemed so shocked to find me awake...’_

They make it to a large wooden platform that circles a massive trunk, a few thick support beams angled against it. Mammals of various species go about their business. Some approach market stalls nestled against the tree. Others sit at tables that lie around the edge, against the railing, while sipping on various hot beverages and looking out over the thick vegetation. A capybara, resting on a stool behind the counter of a wooden magazine stand, waves a paw at Nick.

“You there. Do you read the news?” He asks.

“Depends.”

“Well, you may be interested in this. It concerns you.”

Nick looks over at Judy, an eyebrow arched. She shrugs. The capybara grabs a newspaper from the counter and holds it out to him. Nick walks over and takes it.

“Page 4.”

He flips to it.

“Second article, begins towards the middle.”

Nick reads the headline. **_‘Psychologist States There is Proof Predators Are Unstable’_** He rolls his eyes and hands the paper back. “I’ve heard it all before, thank you.”

“Keep reading.”

Nick scoffs, but continues.

**_Studies, led by Dr. Warren, were conducted by the Institute of Species Cognition and Mental Welfare to determine the difference in violent tendencies between predators and prey._ **

_**'86 couples were used,’ Dr. Warren stated. ‘Forty-three were prey/prey and forty-three were prey/predator.’** _

Nick arches an eyebrow and looks up at the Capybara. He doesn’t notice due to another customer drawing his attention. Suddenly, Nick feels a soft paw on his arm. Downward he glances, towards the touch, and sees Judy staring up at him, purple eyes full of concern.

  “Nick, are you okay?”

He sighs and shifts his stance so that she stands between his arms and can easily see the article.

“Here,” he says, pointing to it.

He continues to read over the tops of her ears.

**_The study was conducted over a period of two months. Each couple went about their daily activities while notes on behavior were taken._ **

Nick doesn’t have to look over them for long. Her ears fall, he having to move his head slightly to avoid having his face covered.

**_‘The predator/prey relationships were much more violent.’ Dr. Warren stated._ _’18 of such relationships resulted in at least one violent outburst during the study’s time. These outbursts were always conducted by the predator and, in 4 of the incidents, medical attention was needed. This 18 drops down to a mere 3 when looking at the prey/prey relationships. In addition, none required medical treatment.’_**

**_Dr. Warren holds two doctorates in Cognitive and Evolutionary Psychology. For the past 15 years she’s been Head of Research at ISCMW. When asked about her personal thoughts on the results, she stated, ‘Well, it’s quite disappointing. Being a predator myself -‘_ **

Nick stops.

Her paw returns to his arm. “Nick?”

He shrugs away from the delicate grip. She sees him smile as he turns towards the capybara who stares at them with a smirk.

“Fascinating article!” Nick shouts.

“Think so?”

“Absolutely. I enjoy learning more about myself.” He states with a casual tone. “Especially about my subconscious urge to kill and eat prey.”

The capybara arches an eyebrow. “Uh…huh. That so?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I’m fascinated by eating habits in general.”

The sly grin upon Nick’s muzzle and his casual strut as he walks towards the magazine stand is a reaction the capybara did not expect. “Well… glad to meet a predator as enlightened as you.”

“There’s one,” Nick holds up a digit, “that has _always_ fascinated me, however. Fascinated me far more than the others.”

Worry fills the capybara and he tries, with failure, to hide it. “Oh…? And what would that be?”

“Autocoprophagy.”

The capybara’s eyes widen in terror. No words come to him.

“Yeah, quite intriguing how a no-good Fox like myself knows about that little nugget, isn’t it?”

“You better shut it. Right now.”

“Oh, you won’t have to worry about me. I’m leaving.” Nick says, walking off and waving. “I have a busy day ahead of me. Takes a lot of energy to suppress my predatory urges.” He flashes one final sly grin at the gaping and fuming mammal.  “Ta-ta.”

Judy runs to him, noticing how, now that the capybara cannot see his expression, his smile has vanished. “Nick…”

He stops and, without looking at her and in a somber tone, “Look, Carrots. I just need a moment.” He steps away.

“Nick…” She stares after him, tempted to follow but decides against it.

Judy turns her attention to the capybara who stares at the back of the fox with a fiery glare. She stomps over, paws clenched.

“What is _wrong_ with you?”

“Bah! Nothing wrong with _me_.”

She points at him, her small claw inches from his snout. “There was _absolutely_ no need for that.”

“Look, lady. I didn’t write the article. I was just trying to help.”

“Help?” She yells. Mammals around her halt and begin staring. _“Help!”_

“Yes! Help you two see the absurdity of your relationship before it’s too late!”

Judy’s taken aback. Her eyes go wide. “Wait- what?”

“I didn’t see any rings so I-“

“You think-?

“Well, aren’t you? No reason for you to hide it now.”

“No, I- I mean. Well-” A sudden resolution comes to her. ‘ _What am I saying?_ ’ “So what if we are!” She challenges. “Huh?”

“You did read the article, didn’t you?”

“That proves nothing!”

“Are you su-“

“Yes!” She shouts. Almost all the mammals on the platform have stopped. “YES! I’m sure! Look, Nick is one of the _nicest_ mammals I have ever met.”

“Yeah, he seems like a peach. You just wait until he snaps.”

Judy slams her fists down on the counter. The loud boom that emits is not expected from her tiny paws and the mammals standing closest to her flinch. Several magazines fall to the ground. “You…! Gah! You’re what’s wrong with Zootopia!”

The capybara jumps from his stool. They are now face-to-face, snouts almost touching. “Am I?” He screams.

“Yes! You and your backwards-“

“Backwards?”

She throws her paws up. “Yes!”

“The numbers don-‘

 “NO!”

“They don’t lie!”

“Do _not_ bring up the numbers!”

“Of course you’d say-!”

“No. You know what?” She says with forced calmness as she realizes the pointlessness of the situation.

“Nope!”

“I’m leaving.”

“Alright!”

She stomps off, each thud of her rabbit feet vibrating the entire wooden platform to the point where several mammals become a little worried. Before she’s completely out of sight of the stand, however, she turns back around and, with every ounce of voice she can muster. “And I’m doing so while holding the paw of my Fox!”

The moment the words are free of her mouth, she finally notices the uncomfortable silence of the surrounding crowd. The soft sounds of mammals shifting their weight can easily be heard.

' _Did I really just say that?’_ She thinks, a little frightened, as she continues her leave.

The crowd separates to create a path as she works her way towards where she assumes Nick to be. Every eye is locked upon her and she feels their weight. Because of this, she makes sure to keep a stern face despite her racing mind.

 _'Yes.’_ She tells herself, pride replacing the fear. _‘Yes I did just say that. And forget about the mammals who find it distasteful!’_

As she passes a cougar, he reaches out and grabs her shoulder. She halts and, as she turns to face him, confused, he slowly kneels down so that they’re eye-level with each other.

“Your words…” He breathes. “They affect me deeply.”

“Oh- uh…”

He smiles as if they’re friends finally united after many years apart. “I thank you.”

“Oh” She grins meekly. “You’re welcome.”

He releases her shoulder and stands. “Now. Go and find your fox and never let him go. No matter what anybody says.”

Judy feels her skin warm into a blush. She simply nods as she continues onwards. The glances of the onlookers are varied and numerous. Some faces are filled with contempt. But others, many others, are that of respect, of admiration. Through the remaining crowd she walks and, shortly, she sees his form leaning against the railing. His eyes, the color of the surrounding leaves, are locked upon her and a wide grin is spread across his muzzle.

As she nears, he holds out a paw using a slow, dramatic movement. She can’t help but release a nervous chuckle as she takes it within her own.

Nick pushes himself away from the edge and they, together, with heads held high, begin their trek across the platform and towards another bridge. They are like a hot knife through butter, the crowd separating before them. Many mammals, whether predator or prey, acknowledge them with a studying gaze as they pass.

Thoughts, hidden within the minds of their creators, fill the swarm.

 _'Good for you two.’_ Some scream.

' _Completely unnatural.’_ Others return.

 _'I’m glad for you.’_ Some beam.

 _'It will not end very well.’_ Others state with concern.

Some of these judgments are voiced, of course, but only in hushed whispers and only to those who the speaker knows to be agreeable. These whispers, these ghosts of the spoken word are heard for quite some time, even after Judy and Nick have disappeared over the bridge and into the mist. But though they may eventually end, the thoughts and memories that have produced them will not. They will continue for a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "To prove a point, one generally commits odd and sporadic acts."  
> Judy, more than anybody, should be quite familiar with this little maxim.  
> Or, perhaps not. I mean, I did just make it up. So don't try to google it or anything of that sort. 
> 
> Anyways, really tried to capture Nick's acting capabilities with this chapter. He still is certainly far from abandoning his "never let them see that they get to you" phrase. Of course, only when it comes to strangers. He's definitely starting to abandon it when it comes to Judy--something that was shown near the end of the film.
> 
> Also, for all the readers who may be all like, "What in the sam hill are they doin' out and about?! They done be dead soon!"  
> Do not fret, my lovelies, they may have been a bit persuasive in some regards... They do have some solid logic to back it up. That will be explored later and, whether or not their logic will get them into trouble despite being solid remains to be seen. 
> 
> And, yes, that was my impersonation of you. Yes, it could be taken as rather mean. No, you're right, I don't care. 
> 
> I would tell you a little about the next chapter as I usually do but, in all honesty, I'm not sure which chapter I want to post next. I mean, I know what's going to be in the following chapters but I'm just not completely sure about the exact order. It's just going to have to be a surprise! And everybody enjoys surprises, right? Of course you do!


	9. Revelations on Both Sides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, sorry for being a bit later than when I said I'd post. I think, overall, Saturday/Sunday will be my official update days. I've determined that they'll work best. 
> 
> Babirusa - Anyways, to save you all a few clicks and a bit of time typing, a Babirusa is a weird pig-like animal that lives in the rainforest. It has tusks not only underneath the upper lip that poke out--just picture a wild boar--but also two long, curving tusks that sprout right off the top of their snout that reach almost to their eyes. It's quite bizarre. 
> 
> Okapi - This animal is also bizarre. Essentially, picture what an animal would look like if a Zebra and a Giraffe got it on. They have striped legs and a, generally, dark-brown body. They're more related to Giraffe's apparently. 
> 
> Why give these definitions of these animals? Well, read the darn chapter and find out gosh dern it. Also, their names are odd and thought I'd be helpful. I like being helpful. Who doesn't? I'll shut up now.

“We sure showed them!” Judy yells with enthusiasm as she skips ahead, turns on a foot, and smiles back at Nick.

They currently travel upon a path embedded into a cliff. High above, a waterfall spills over and tumbles to the forest floor with a thunderous roar.  Nick sticks out a paw and lets the cool water rush over it, his arm jerking slightly at the impacts. A smooth smile touches his muzzle. “We did, one-hundred percent.”

Within him, Nick’s mind surges. _‘But it_ was you _who confronted that nobody.’_ He thinks. _‘It was_ you _who really stood up for me and every other predator.’_

As he had listened to the conversation between her and the Capybara, the luminous spark within him had grown a little more. It no longer belonged purely to the subconscious but now oozed, slightly, into his consciousness. He had leaned against the railing because he had felt it, the same feeling he had felt in the motel room.

Judy places her paws upon the stone rail and looks towards a great red blimp hovering beneath the tops of the trees. It moves forward with calmness, swaying a little in the gentle breeze responsible for clearing the morning mist. The propellers on either side rotate and she listens to the soft hum of their engines, her ears twitching.

_‘During my time at the academy, a time not too long ago, I vividly remember the lengthy weeks that we had spent separated.’_

Nick glances over and studies her as she studies the scenery. Her broad smile sends a flood of warmth through him. The proposal to come here had been a good one.

_‘I had thought of the longing as merely a friend missing another friend. But, perhaps, it had been the hints of something greater developing.’_

As Judy watches the blimp move towards a bridge—this one built for cars—and stop just before impact, Nick watches the tufts upon her ears shift.

_‘Or maybe I’m thinking too far into this.’_

As she watches the gates, similar to those found at railroad crossings, begin to blink and lower themselves in front of the traffic, he watches her shift her weight in an unconscious movement.

 _‘Alright, let me entertain the idea. I can do that much, at least. Let’s say that, perhaps, my feelings of friendship towards her_ have _developed a bit further and, hypothetically, let’s say I act upon them.’_

As she sees the area between the two gates split itself in two, each half beginning to rise like the drawbridge of a castle, he sees her nose flick to a slow rhythm as it takes in the scents of moist plants, of dirt and stone, of blooming Passion Flowers. 

_‘Even if she responded in the same way which, I highly doubt she would, the events of today have plainly shown why such a relationship would be problematic.’_

As she views the blimp slowly and methodically glide through the newly formed gap, he views her striped pink button-up shirt waver in the wind.

_‘Could I possibly allow myself to drag her into the world of prejudice that has plagued my entire life?’_

As she glances away from the scene and towards Nick, he sees her eyes shift. He quickly looks in another direction but isn’t fast enough. Judy catches the end of the movement. 

She arches and eyebrow. “Nick?”

 _‘Woops. Okay, act natural.’_ He focuses on a massive treehouse that has appeared from behind the blimp before glancing at her from the corner of his eye. It’s a lazy, casual move. “Yes, Fluff?”

“What’s been bothering you?”

“Just--.” He folds his ears back, thinking of an excuse for his odd mannerisms. “I want to thank you for what you did back there.” What he says is genuine but if it keeps her from digging any further, it will serve a dual purpose.

 She gives him a doubtful glare. “First. Don’t thank me for doing what’s right. I’m simply here to-“

“-make the world a better place,” he says, perking up.

“Right. And second.”

“I’m listening.”

“Even before that jerk back there pulled his stunt, you’ve been distant.”

 _‘Alright, different tactic. Play dumb.’_ “I have?”

“Yes.” She says walking towards him.

He turns towards her with a grin as she approaches. “You seem awfully confident in yourself.”

“I’m sorry, but you do realize you’re talking to the first bunny cop, right?” She smiles.

 “Ah, I suppose that was-“

“Something a dumb fox would say?”

“Yeah.”

Her smile lessens and shifts into a delicate grin. “Nick, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay.”

Nick pauses and stares down into her understanding glare. She takes his silence as a cue to continue.

“But, just remember, if you ever need to open up…”

 “There’s a sly bunny around who happens to be a good listener?”

“Exactly.” She lays a paw on his shoulder before turning away and walking onwards. “Now, come on. This district is amazing and I want to see all of it before the day ends.”

Nick pauses to take in her form, the weight of her paw still pressing into his shirt. Her step has a bounce in it and she looks around with wonder in her eyes.

 _‘I couldn’t.’_ He decides. _’I couldn’t subject her to that life, the same life that has taken from me the glow that I see within her.’_

As he begins to follow, his phone rings. Reaching towards his back pocket, he pulls it out and studies the screen. _‘Oh no…’_

Judy stops and turns back to him. “Who is it?”

“Chief.” Nick says, answering. “Hey, how’s my favorite water buffalo?”

“Shut it, Wilde.” He sounds unhappier than usual.

“Yes, sir.” Nick says, deciding further joking would likely be problematic. “What can I do for you?”

“Wilde, do you know Damon Maximus?”

“Sir?”

“Damon. Maximus.”

“No, sir. I’ve never heard the name.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well.”  The chief grunts. “How about a Sebastian Wilde?”

The name clicks and his ears fold back. Judy sees the change in expression and gives him an inquisitive look.

“I know the name, sir, but I’ve never met him.”

“What can you tell me?”

“Nothing much, sir. He’s my uncle. My mother mentioned him a few times. Is something wrong?”

This grabs Judy’s full attention, her ears point straight up and direct themselves towards Nick.

“Well.” The chief sighs. “Damon Maximus is his son. He’s now one of the numerous missing cases.”

Nick pauses as he tries to place his thoughts in order, his heart beginning to sink. “My cousin is missing?” _‘A cousin I’ve never met, but family nonetheless.’_

“Wait, what?” Judy blurts out.

“Yes, Wilde. Apparently so. I’m sending you an email with his profile attached. I need you to fill out a report on everything you know about him and his father.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I expect it on my desk first thing tomorrow. Goodbye.”

Nick flinches as the conversation is cut by the sound of the receiver slamming into its cradle.

Several seconds pass as Nick stares into the blank screen in thought.

Judy’s the first to break the silence. “We will find him, Nick.” She states. “The ZPD has an excellent record when it comes to missing cases.”

“It’s just…” he sighs. “It’s an odd way to become acquainted with a family member.” His phone vibrates and a notification shows. “Here, Judy. The Chief sent Damon’s file.” She walks over as Nick taps the screen a few times.

The file displays and they study the image briefly before looking at each other in puzzlement. “Nick… you really don’t know anything about him?”

“I know as much as you do.”

They go back to looking over the file.

“Well, the Chief wasn’t mistaken. My uncle is listed as the father.”

“But definitely not by blood.”

“The only other explanation is adoption.”

“But why the different last name?”

* * *

 

The deal had gone smoothly.

Very smoothly.

He takes a sip from a blended drink of bananas and mangoes. Now, to sit back and lay low for a few weeks. Maybe he’d catch up on a few movies.

“Hon, you know what that newsstand guy just told me?” The voice comes from an Okapi couple sitting at the table behind him.

“No, dear. What?”

“He sold a newspaper to a Fox and Bunny.”

The Babirusa instantly straightens in his seat as all attention is pulled away from the drink.

“Oh?”

“They were _together._ ”

The wife pauses. “ _Surely_ … you don’t mean?”

“Yes! They were a _couple!_ I mean, they _are_ a couple! _”_

The Babirusa turns towards them. “Hey- hello. Sorry for over-hearing, really. But did you just say what I think you said?”

The husband smiles at him. “Oh yes! You heard right! A Fox and Bunny couple were here.”

“And you heard this from that guy over there?” The Babirusa points towards the sitting Capybara.

“Yup.”

“Wow, that’s fascinating.” He stands and begins hobbling over to the newsstand. “Thank-you very much you two.”

“No problem! A truly shocking event, can’t say I blame you for wanting to know more.”

The Capybara gives him a welcoming grin when he notices his approach. “What can I do for you my good sir?”

“I heard from that lovely couple over there-” He gestures over his shoulder. “-that you have a story about a Fox and Bunny couple?”

“Indeed. Saw them with my own eyes.”

“Interesting. How long ago were they here?”

“Uh, well. It’s been a few hours.”

 _'Dammit.’_ “That’s a shame.” The Babirusa reaches into his pocket and pulls from it a packet of papers. He unfolds them and, positioning his hoof and arm so that only the pictures show, displays them to the Capybara. “Was this the right bunny?”

The Capybara narrows his eyes. “Uh, yeah. That’s her. May I ask why you have that on you?”

“I’m trying to find them for a story I’m writing.” He says, flipping to another page. “And is this the Fox?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s him. A story, you say?” He gestures towards the various magazines and papers. “You’ve piqued my interest. Who do you write for?”

The Babirusa gives him a sly smile. “Now, now! It’s unwise for me to disclose such information. As you probably know, the news business is a competitive one. I’d hate for a competitor to nab my story.”

“Ah.” The Capybara chuckles. “I understand.”

“One last question. Did either of them happen to be in an officer’s uniform?”

“They’re cops?” The Capybara’s eyes widen.

“They are, yeah. I’m going to go with a ‘no’.”

“I suppose they were off-duty.”

“Must have been. Alright, thank-you for the info.”

“You’re welcome. Good day to you.”

The Babirusa leaves, a wide smile upon his face. _‘This...’_ He muses to himself. _‘This is quite the development. She’s going to be absolutely stunned.’_ He limps to a section of the platform with less mammals and grabs his phone. He dials a number and, after a few rings, an angered voice gushes from the speaker.

“I told you not to call unless it was important!”

“It is, it is! Trust me.”

“It’s hardly ever important! But, anyways, out with it.”

“You know the bounty you placed on the Fox and Bunny cops?”

“Tell me, do you think I know about it?”

“Okay, sorry. Well, about that, you’ll be interested to know…” He smiles.

“Out with it!”

 "...they’re considered partners both on and _off_ duty.”

There’s a pause. A long pause.

“Mistress?”

“Cordarius!” She screams in the background.

The Babirusa can’t make out the response. It’s only a deep mumbling.

“Re-print the bounties I have on the Fox and Bunny. Double the reward for bringing them in alive and completely eradicate the reward for their deaths.”

More mumbling.

“Does it _fucking_ matter why?”

Additional, rushed mumbling.

“That’s what I thought. Now get on it. Oh and add a note that if they do end up dead, the ones responsible will take the place as targets. Fuck-ups aren’t allowed with this one. Now leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, so all that jazz happened. These threads be starting to weave together it seems! Which, that's always nice. Honestly, I'm surprised how well I set shit up for this chapter since, to be blatantly honest, I'm winging a lot of this. I mean, winging as in I don't have every plot detail outlined. I AM putting thought into it, don't worry! Of course, you may think I'm not. That's fine (rant all you want in the comments below) but... yeah. 
> 
> I have to ask, actually. I'm curious. What do you all think of the names I give my O.C. characters? Like, it's a bit too late to change them now, obviously. Well, unless I went back through and edited every chapter (something I'm not going to do for that). But, like, I have names like Cordarius! Damon Maximus! and then names like Whisper? and Sebastian? Eh, just thought I'd ask.


	10. In Darkness, Two Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! I think. Maybe. Unless you're reading this after a week or more past the date I originally posted it! Then it's not so new, I suppose. Anyways, it's late and I may be just a little drunk so I don't have much to say. Luckily the chapter is already written so I don't have to worry about dumb shit like editing it and stuff. Yeah... Cool beans. 
> 
> And with that, here's the next chapter. Don't have too much fun now.

“Here’s your room, you filthy mutt.” The wolf yelps as the prod sends a jolt of electricity into his back. He falls forward and the door slams shut behind him. Locks engage with an ominous clunk. Unmoving, he lies upon the soft floor as he recovers from the shock.

Through clenched jaws, he inhales slowly.

Exhales.

Then, raising his head, he takes in the room. A thick, cushiony substance surrounds him. It’s as if somebody has taken pillows and stapled them to every wall, the ceiling, and the floor. There is nothing—no furniture or decoration—that breaks the white monotony, nothing except for a small, unmoving lump lying in the corner.

He gets to his feet, his shaking legs making it difficult, and locks his eyes upon the object.

_'No, not an object.’_ He corrects. _‘A mammal.’_

They’re curled up and face one of the walls.

_‘Shit, please don’t be dead.’_

Focusing his eyes, he notices a very small movement—the rise and fall of the torso that accompanies breathing.

_‘Okay, good.’_

Not sure what to do, he clears his throat. The mammal doesn’t stir.

“Hey.” He states in a deep voice. “Are you okay?”

No response. No change in breathing nor a shift in the body. Cautiously, the wolf eases over to the form and, as he nears, he realizes it’s a lion. A female lion. His shadow falls over her face. As it does, she turns her head slightly to look up at him. Grey eyes empty of life and filled with sorrow look him over before staring into the wall that lies inches from her face.

The wolf steps back, her answer plainly stated. He returns to the door and pushes against it a few times. There is no handle, window, or any other hold to gain a grip. As expected, it doesn’t budge.

Giving up, he sits in a corner opposite her. Out of a nervous and scared boredom, he stares at the unmoving lion as thoughts of his potential fates flash in his mind. Would they simply kill him? Torture him? Keep him prisoner for ransom? He has no idea. What frightens him most is the professionalism of this place. The bits and pieces he was able to see of the facility made him think of a subterranean army bunker. The equipment within, however, reminds him of something else entirely. He had seen rooms filled with crates, rooms filled with test tubes, vials, and humming equipment that he didn’t recognize.

_‘A place like this needs funding.’_ He notes. _‘Where is it coming from?’_

The wolf thinks on the subject for several minutes before his nervousness escalates to a point where he regresses back to thoughts on his predicament. _‘Will I ever see the sun again?’_

He lets loose a low whimper.

_‘What if my family and friends have seen me alive for the last time?’_ Shaking himself, he returns to the present, his focus returning to the lioness. _‘I wonder how long she’s been here.’_ He wipes a paw over his muzzle and sighs. _‘And what the hell did they do to her?’_ The look she had given him was not that of a frightened and abandoned captive. It went deeper; it was a look filled with utter defeat. Guesses about what could have broken her, each one worse than the last, cross his mind. Shortly, curiosity and a need to distract himself force him to try another attempt at conversation.

“Hey.” He says softly. She doesn’t stir. He continues. “I know you don’t seem to be in a talking mood but maybe it would help to, you know, get some stuff off your chest.”

She shifts slightly then remains still.

“Alright, you don’t. That’s fine. Can I get a name, at least?”

Nothing happens for quite some time and he abandons any attempt at further communication.

But then, lethargically, she places a paw under her and, with what looks to be great effort, leverages herself up into a sitting position. The wolf sees a spot of blood upon her chest before she covers it with her knees she pulls against herself. She turns and meets the glare of the wolf, staring into his blue eyes with a seething hatred. Through a dry and broken voice, she croaks one word:

“Whisper.”

It’s an anger she’s merely feeling in the moment, he realizes, and isn’t directed at him. “That’s your name?”

She goes back to blankly studying a distant wall and doesn’t answer.

“It’s a good name. It reminds me of the stealth that cats like yourself naturally possess.”

Her breathing intensifies and becomes shaky. He watches as tears well up and fall down over her cheeks.

“Uh-.” Though uncertain of what to say next, he proceeds anyway. “Um, okay. Obviously, I have no idea what happened to you. But it must have been awful.”

She begins sobbing harder. She nestles herself into the corner using a decrepit shuffling movement and leans her head against one of the pads.

_‘Okay, you idiot. Why’d you say that? That only reminded her further.’_ A question bursts into his mind and fear bubbles within him. _‘What if they do the same to me?’_

A few uncontrollable fits seize the lioness before her whimpers begin to lessen. The wolf sits without making a sound as he waits patiently for her to work through it. When she eventually quiets, he has thought of a way to continue the conversation in a manner that will likely avoid her afflictions.

“Where are my manners?” He states. “I never told you my name.”

Her shining grey eyes fall upon him. Delicately, she pushes herself from the wall, lays her chin upon her knees, and wraps her arms around her legs.

“Damon. Damon Maximus.”

She doesn’t respond.

“I wish we could have met in different circumstances.” He sighs. “But this’ll have to do, won’t it?”

She nods slightly but says nothing.

“Well, let’s see…” he almost talks about how he ended up here. Or, at least, what he remembers about coming here, but he decides it’s probably best simply to avoid talk of this place. _‘I could tell her about my life.’_ He considers the thought. _‘Yeah… something happy. I may have something.’_ “…I can tell you a story, if you’d care to hear it.”

Another slight nod.

“Alright,” he says, gathering his thoughts together in his frightened mind. “Well, it takes place many years ago when I was just a pup.” He smiles slightly. “See, when a wolf is young, they have the tendency to… enjoy the night quite a bit more than many other mammals—you know, remnants from our distant past when we were nocturnal.” A chuckle escapes him as he recalls memories. “My parents had one hell of a time trying to adjust my sleep schedule.”

The lioness focuses on him, focuses on his words. She is, he realizes, trying to distract her mind. Just like him.

“Anyways, during the nights, I would wait until everybody was asleep and then sneak out. I did this many times but I vividly remember one particular escapade.” He pauses and intakes a breath. “I had ventured out further than I ever had and found myself deep in the evergreen forests typical of Tundratown, which is where my family lived at the time.” Another chuckle escapes him. “Me being as small I was, I had to practically tunnel through the snow. I’d hop a little every now and then just to get a good look at where the hell I was at. If somebody else had been there, all they would have seen this trail of snow forming on its own and then, occasionally, a little pup head would poke out.”

Damon thinks he can almost see the hint of a smile tug at Whisper’s muzzle.

“Soon, I came to a pretty sizeable bluff. And, without a second thought—a habit common with the young—up I went… Up went this bundle of pure fuzz and energy, burrowing through the thick powder like a mole. I was in my element, I must say, both literally and mentally, being an artic wolf and all.”

He grins at the lioness and she stares back with intensity.

“With quite a bit of difficulty and time, I make it to the top.” He halts a moment to reminisce. “The view was absolutely astonishing. Imagine seeing, over an ocean of pines, the heart of Tundratown. Buildings tall and short, of brick and glass…” Damon tilts his head and casts a thought-filled stare into the cushioning. “Their warm light flowed into the chilled air of the night. It was like the stars of the sky had fallen and joined the citizens. Being in the city and the sky remaining blank at night, this really was how it seemed. Anyways, providing a backdrop for it all, the great skyscrapers that make up the core of Zootopia. It truly captured my young mind… Hell, what am I saying, it still captures it.

“Well, I had noticed something about the towers; a light glinted off their shining exteriors, a light that did not come from any mammal-made object. I looked skywards to find the moon glaring at me. It was fuller and larger than on any night I’ve experienced since. I stared at it for a second or two then shifted back to the city. An urge suddenly struck me. The beauty of the picturesque scene was simply too much for my little self to handle and I had to let it out.”

He laughs.

“Not really knowing what the hell I was doing, I filled my lungs with as much air as I could, pointed my snout to the great eye in the sky, and let loose a long, high-pitched howl. It was the first one I’d ever done and, even as I was letting loose the noise, I was confused by it. I had heard about the antics of my species, of course, but I must admit, with neither of my parents being wolves, I was a bit late on the draw and wasn’t entirely knowledgeable.

“But get this. As soon as I’d finished, an urge to let loose another overtook me and, as I was prepping myself, a response came, just as high-pitched and pathetic as mine.”

Damon isn’t mistaken this time. A hint of a smile does touch Whisper’s muzzle.

“I was absolutely stunned. It had been the first time I’d communicated with one of my own in such a way. Excitement filled me and, with reckless abandon, I answered his call as he had mine. This time, right in the middle of my howl, the other joins and, together, we made a chorus; a chorus that nobody would want to listen to but a chorus nevertheless. For many minutes we go on like this and, let me tell you, I was actually able to roughly piece together his location. I’d heard howling was used to track pack members during the ancient times but, until then, I had never realized its true effectiveness. Anyways, to drive home the point about how annoying we were truly being, during one of our more voracious outcries, some guy slammed open either a window or door—all I know is that it made a loud bang—and asked us, not so kindly and in a booming voice, if we would kindly shut the hell up.”

Damon lets loose a hard laugh and, for a brief period, Whisper’s face shows a true grin before it collapses back into a studious glare.

“And, as another twist to this tale, I actually found the fellow who had howled back at me. He lived a few streets over and we’ve been friends ever since.” A sharp pain strikes his chest. _‘A friend I may never see again.’_ He quickly shakes the thought. _‘Pointless to think like that.’_

When Damon finishes his talk, a silence ensues them—a daunting, leaden silence.

For what feels to be an endless gap of time, Whisper looks upon Damon with a knowing glare. He meets it before glancing away, looking back, and glancing away again. An unsureness of what to do or say next causes him to begin tapping his paws together and looking around the room nervously. The silence breaks.

“Thank you.”

Her words, being unexpected, surprise him. He beams at her and nods his head slightly in acknowledgement.

Like an elder sore from the many years of life, Whisper lowers herself into the curled position that he had found her in.

He sighs, leans his head back—his pointed ears brushing the cushioned wall—and studies the ceiling, the single light reflecting off his eyes of oceans. _‘Surely they’d be rescued. Surely somebody knows he is missing by now,’_ he assures himself as tears begin to form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap, some little nibblets of Damon's past and, what's this? They've been placed in the same cell? There's a reason for this, I swear to the great toenail clipping in the sky. But that's for laaaaaater chapters. Spoilers be no fun. No fun at all. 
> 
> Alright, another canon character is going to make an appearance next chapter. Again, not going to say whoooo but she... I mean he. Or she. Either or..... or both--you don't know them!--is gonna drop some more knowledge nibblets. 
> 
> There's a little red squiggly line under the word 'nibblets.' To that, I say "long live the revolution!" It's now a word dammit. I don't care what anybody says.


	11. Another Presumption?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allow me to apologize for being a week late on the posting. Some life stuff decided to slap me around a bit. Mainly college and all'o that kinda stuff. 'Tis all good now, hopefully. So, yeah. Hopefully I can stay on track from here on out but I'm certainly not making any promises. What I do promise is that I will never abandon this story until it's finished like I've known some other fic writers to do. So, even if I'm a bit late sometimes, just remember that the next chapter will, eventually, be posted.

On sore arms Judy lowers herself so that her quickly twitching nose almost brushes against the faded carpet before returning to a raised position. “Fifty-four,” she whispers as she completes another push-up.

Nick shifts the laptop over and looks at her, a toothy smile on his muzzle. “Fluff, I’m not cleaning up if you hurl.” They had finished eating not too long ago, the remnants of their take-out lying scattered on the table.

“Fifty-five,” she states loudly and between breaths.

Nick is not dissuaded. “I must say, watching you is making this bed all the more comfortable.”

She raises a paw up with only the middle digit extended and completes a few reps one-handed.

Nick’s eyes widen and he nods his head in recognition. “Point made,” he states with true admiration. She quickly returns the arm and continues. Nick’s attention shifts back to the laptop and he glances over what he’s typed thus far.

He sighs in annoyance. _‘The Chief is not going to find this useful…’_

There’s no information he can add for Damon Maximus that the case file doesn’t give. As for Sebastian Wilde, his only knowledge comes from distant memories of familial talk and gossip. Essentially, nothing of essence. Slowly and with reluctance his eyes move towards his cell lying half embedded in the white sheets of the bed he sits upon. _‘Looks like you’re gonna have to bite the bullet.’_ The phrase falls upon him like a hammer and he cringes. _‘No, it’s just a phone call. Nothing like… what happened.’_

His reluctance stems from not wanting to worry her. _‘If she finds out her nephew is missing and her son has a target practically painted on his head…’_ He shudders. It wouldn’t surprise him if she decided to cleanse this city herself. _‘But it’ll just be a quick phone call and she only needs to know about Damon.’_ He chuckles quietly to himself. _‘You know very well it won’t be quick.’_ It never is. Not with her. Especially now that she’s well into retirement. Like the younglings of traditionally nocturnal species, the elderly—with no work routine to follow—generally shift back to the sleep schedules most natural to them. _‘She can literally stay up the entire night and talk to me if I allow her.’_

“Carrots.” Nick states as he plucks the phone from the bedding. She’s switched to sit ups and halts against the ground.

“Yeah?” She pants, staring into the ceiling.

“I’m going to talk to my mother about Damon and, trust me, you do not want her to discover that her only son is a walking pile of gold. So, right now, I’m at my abode. Alone. And -“

“Got it.” She smiles. “I’ll keep quiet.”

“Much obliged.” He says, dialing the number. A few moments pass before it begins to ring. He holds his breath, unsure whether he wants her to answer or not. _‘I just hope she can tell me some-.’_

“Nick!” Imara Wilde’s voice is delicately raspy but still strong. “How’s my favorite son?”

He smiles. “Fine mom.” _‘Alright, keep it quick.’_ “Hey, what if I said you could help me out on a case?”

“Then I would ask, ‘Unless a criminal has a weakness to arthritis medication, how could I possibly be of any help?’”

“And I would respond…” Nick sighs, breaking the act, his tone turning serious. “That this involves a family member.”

She sighs, likewise shifting manner. “What stupid shit have they pulled now?”

“No-no, they didn’t do anything wrong. Da-.”

“That’s a first.”

“It is. It is. Damon Maximus ring a bell?”

Silence ensues. Judy tiptoes to her bed and delicately sits upon it. She crosses her legs and looks at Nick inquisitively, head tilted slightly.

“Mom? He’s my cousin. And uh… a wolf, apparently. I’ve never heard of the guy.”

For a long while, she doesn’t respond. “Nick… I think this would be best talked about face-to-face.”

His insides tighten. _‘Quick excuse, stay simple.’_ “Mom, this information is important. I can’t wait for-.”

“I know, I know. Every moment counts on the force, right?”

“Exactly.”

She sighs. “Well, how about the next best thing?”

They tighten further. “Mom, a few bits of information on Damon is all I need, really. We can talk further at a different time. Promise.”

“Oh, come now. You usually contact me by MuzzleTime anyways. Besides, I haven’t seen my boy’s face in quite some time.”

Pangs of guilt berates his head and he winces. “I’m sorry. I really am. But the ZPD has been swamped an-.”

“Buttons…“ She interrupts.

Abruptly, Judy lets loose a sharp chuckle before slapping a paw over her mouth. Nick shoots her a sharp glare. _‘Curse her sensitive hearing.’_

“Nick, who is that?”

_‘Great. Just great. No worries, easy cover-up.’_ “Officer Hopps, mom. We’re finishing up some paper work at the office right now.”

“At ten-thirty?”

_‘Is it really that late?’_ A glance at the monitor confirms it. “Uh, yeah. As I said, the ZPD’s been swamped.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Mom?”

“Get on MuzzleTime, Nick.”

“I’m at the off-.”

“You’ve MuzzleTimed at the office before.”

“You know, you’re technically impeding an investigation.”

She laughs sarcastically. “Oh and what are you going to do? Arrest a poor old vixen? That wouldn’t make a very good image for the ZPD, would it?”

Nick leans back against the headboard in defeat and sighs. “Fine. Fine, you win. I’m hanging up now. See you in a few.” He taps the screen and tosses the phone back into the sheets.

“Buttons.” Judy says, laughing.

Nick locks a half-lidded, unamused glare on her.

Through a few chuckles, “Nick, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.” She nods towards the wall. “That could closely resemble our office with the right angle. I doubt she’ll know the difference.”

“I guess we’re going to find out. Hey, are all bunnies this inept at stealth?”

“Now, don’t make this a species thing.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s just you.”

Judy rolls her eyes.

Hopping from the bed, Nick grabs the laptop, places it on the table, and positions a seat in a calculated way. He pulls up MuzzleTime and, making sure the camera only catches his face and the empty white of the wall behind him, he clicks his mother’s name. Similar to the phone, it “rings” a moment before her face appears.

As is usual with Vixens, her head is more V-shaped and smaller. Gray can be seen creeping up her muzzle from her purple-black nose. The vibrant red-orange of her fur has faded through the years. What hasn’t changed, however, are her green eyes. They are just as lively as they’ve always been.

“Are you satisfied now, mom?”

“Oh shush.”

Abruptly, Judy lands beside Nick and gives the camera a wide smile. “Hey, Ms. Wilde!”

“Officer Hopps! Would you please smack some sense into my son?”

“I’ve tried, Ms. Wilde. There is no hope for him.”

She chuckles.

“Yes, yes, I’m the troubled one. Mom, what do you know of Damon?”

“I’ll tell you as soon as you tell me why you aren’t at the ZPD.”

Judy freezes.

Nick’s elbow, out of sight of the webcam, nudges her ribcage. “If that’s what you want to believe, Mom. Can you please just answer the question?”

The vixen smiles a devilish grin, her fangs showing under the dim light of her apartment. “Show me your office and I will.”

A lull in conversation follows. Judy looks away from the camera and quickly taps her foot. Nick knows it’s no use but thinks of something anyways. “What, you don’t trust your only son?”

“No, actually. I don’t.”

Judy breaks. “Nick, it’s futile. Ms. Wilde, you’re right. But we can explain.”

Nick closes his eyes and places his head in his paw.

The grin has left Imara’s face and her eyes have softened significantly. They are cast downwards. When she speaks, her voice shakes a little. “I was hoping this wasn’t the case but it seems as if it is. Why are you pulling this stunt?”

Nick looks up at the camera, his face scrunched in confusion.

“I thought you would trust me enough...” She continues, tears beginning to form.

“Mom? What are you talking about?”

“Do _not_ play stupid, Nicholas. You will not repeat what _he_ did, do you understand-?”

“Mom!” Nick shouts. “Mom, believe me, you’re not making sense.”

Judy, panicked at the sudden collapse in mood, interjects. “Ms. Wilde, who are you talking about?”

Imara pauses, thinking. She studies their faces and postures, specifically Judy’s who she has, at this point, guessed isn’t as good a liar as her son. They both are awaiting eagerly for her next words. Eventually, she breathes a heavy sigh. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“No, mom. We don’t.”

“Then, please, tell me. Where are you and why is Officer Hopps with you?”

Nick opens his mouth to speak but Judy jumps in.

“We are currently at a hotel, Ms. Wilde. An unknown criminal has placed a bounty for our capture and, thus, it is currently unsafe for us to return to our homes.” She breaks the formal tone. “Basically Nick here didn’t want to worry you. That’s why the secrecy. I’m sorry.”

Imara’s eyes have widened and her lower jaw hangs open. She closes her eyes. “I’m not sure if it’s better or worse than what I presumed. I’d say worse.”

Nick straightens. “And what did you presume, mother?”

“In a minute. I need to know more. Are you absolutely sure you two are safe?”

“Yes, mom. This joint is in a completely different part of the city. No brainless crook will expect it. We haven’t even been to work today.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Since…” he checks the calendar on his phone. He himself doesn’t believe it. “…only yesterday? Judy, is that right? ”

“Actually… yes, it is.” From her tone of voice, she doesn’t either.

Imara seems satisfied at this answer.

“See?” Nick states. “I can never keep secrets from you for long.”

“No and you never could. Are you going to work tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think-.”

“Mom, we’ll be fine. A big, strong cop will pick us up in a nice, strong cruiser.”

“But-.”

“ _And_ the route we’ll take is nothing like our usual ones.”

“Alright, fine.” She sighs. “Just please be careful, Buttons.” Nick feels a jet of air on his neck as Judy attempts to hold back a laugh. “And you too, Officer Hopps.”

Judy nods her head.

“By the way, he got that nickname because he used to collect buttons. I think he still has them at his apartment”

“I think it’s cute.” Judy says.

Nick rolls his eyes. “Alright, enough. Let’s get back to business.”

Imara smiles gently. “Very well. So, you want to know about Sebastian-.”

“No-no-no. You aren’t getting off that easily. Mom, what had you presumed?”

“This ties into it.”

Nick’s eyes narrow and an eyebrow of Judy raises.

“You’ll see. Anyways, what was I saying? Oh yes, Sebastian and Damon.” She clears her throat. “There’s a reason you know so little about them, Nick.”

Judy begins to inch away.

“Where are you going Officer Hopps?”

“Oh, uh. Well, I was just thinking. This seems deep in personal family issues. Nick can fill me in on the important parts later.”

“Judy.” This is the first time Imara has referred to her by her first name. “You’ve been responsible for saving my boy’s life on more than one occasion and in more ways than one. Anything we discuss can be said in front of you.”

She smiles and her ears fold. “Thanks, Ms. Wilde. I appreciate it.”

“You can call me Imara from here on out.”

Judy nods, a warm spot in her chest.

“Anyways, Sebastian and your father, at one point, were very close. Growing up as the eldest two in a country household with twelve other siblings, it was difficult for either to feel truly loved. Their parents, though nice foxes, were constantly busy with not only making a living but rearing the young ones. So, for companionship, he and Sebastian bonded, bonded fiercely. Your father used to tell me loads of stories about the mischief they would get into.” Imara chuckles lightly. “One day while babysitting, they gave the younger kits the idea of putting paint in the water guns to play ‘war.’”

Judy snorts.

Nick grins but doesn’t react much. He’d heard the story before, albeit long ago.

“Let’s just say they didn’t do much babysitting after that. White and red paint was everywhere—spewed across the sides of the barn, the trees, the grass and, the one that really pissed your grandparents off, one of the trucks.” She laughs. “But, I digress. Point is. Sebastian and Rhys grew up together and were the best of friends. It only made Sebastian’s later actions all the more worse.

“Your father and I were married by the time Sebastian pulled his little stunt. I think he and your father were…” She pauses. “…in their late twenties at the time. You were only two and, let me just say this, nobody could have predicted that the little ball of fluff that zipped through our apartment would grow up to be such a shit.”

Judy snorts again.

“Ah, yes. Funny.” Nick deadpans.

“Well, during that year, Sebastian began to fade. He didn’t contact your father as often and, when Rhys tried to make plans with him, he would make an excuse. Your father berated himself. He’d thought he had done something. He pleaded with Sebastian to tell him what the matter was but he simply shrugged it off. One day, Sebastian simply disappeared not only from Rhys’s life but the lives of every family member. Rhys went to the police and they started a search. Within a day or two, Sebastian was found. Normally, Rhys would be joyous but what Sebastian told the cops would forever haunt him. Sebastian stated that he didn’t want his location to be given to any of his family—not your father, not your grandparents, not even friends. He said that he would contact them if he chose. See, as an adult, you’re legally allowed to disappear. Of course, as cops, you two probably know that. Anyways, besides stating that Sebastian was alive and well, the police could tell Rhys nothing more. He begged, of course, but it was futile. Seeing how it affected your father… well, it broke my heart.  

“A year later, Rhys, by using those sites where everybody posts what they’re doing… the name… it’s uh…”

“Social media?” Judy asks.

“Yes, thank-you. Social media. He used that and what he found put him through the ringer once again. The reason for Sebastian’s disappearance? To elope.” Imara sighs and reaches for something off screen. It’s a glass of water and she takes a sip. Nick can sense that she’s nervous about further discussion. She sets the glass back down. “There were pictures of a large and beautiful wedding. In every single one, Sebastian was the only fox.” She pauses. “Well, you see. He, uh, eloped with an artic hare… a doe.”

Like the tumblers within a safe’s lock successfully aligning, pieces within Nick’s mind fall and clang into place. They click and shift. Heat rushes to his face and his heart rate quickens. “Mom…” he breathes. “…you thought…?”

Imara looks away from the camera and points her nose towards the floor. “I was jumping to conclusions out of fear.”

From the corner of his eye, Nick sees Judy shift her weight. He dares not look at her. The pressure within the room has tripled. It feels as if a tower made of lead has been placed upon his shoulders.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you two. But you must admit you do spend a lot of time together.”

“Mom… please. We’re partners on the force. That’s going to happen.”

“I know. I know... but still.”

“Mom…”

“Especially when you’re together this late.”

“Mother!”

Judy lets loose a nervous, forced chuckle. “It’s okay, Imara. I mean, we _are_ sharing a room right now. Out of context, that has to look weird.”

“I was just afraid you’d do to me what Sebastian did to your brother all those years ago.” Imara dabs away tears from her shining eyes using her red blouse.

“I would never do that to you, mom.”

“I know... But a scared mind thinks crazy things.” Abruptly, she lets loose a heavy sob. “The worst part is they never made up before your father passed.” She heaves. “Their last interaction was a fight that escalated so far that Rhys had grabbed Sebastian by the scruff and slammed him into a table. The impact had broken his snout.”

Judy had death as a possibility for the fate of Nick’s father but hearing it stated out loud, turning the possibility into fact, shook her. She was unable to imagine what losing a parent would be like. Even further beyond her imagination was what it’d be like to lose a beloved spouse. “Imara…” she whispers “…I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, Judy. For anything. Ever.” She sniffs and wipes her eyes again. “You’ve done so much for my son and for this city. I’ve never given you a formal thanks.”

“Imara, please don’t. I appreciate it. But Nick helped me just as much as I helped him.”

Nick scoffs, forcing down his turning anxiety. “Yeah, you were a complete mess without me.”

Imara chuckles between sobs. “As I said, ‘such a shit.’”

They all burst into a shaky, nervous laugh—the type that only comes directly after sharing an emotionally-charged experience, one that closes the gaps between the souls involved. Into the night, they continue to converse, Judy and Nick easing back into the conversation as the thoughts about Imara’s presumption fade into the back of their minds. For now, at least.

Unfortunately, Imara knows little about Damon. After Rhys had died, she never could bring herself to forgive Sebastian and they had gone their separate ways. All she knows of Damon is that he was an artic wolf that Sebastian and the doe had adopted due to the inability for them to bear offspring of their own. The three of them had moved to Tundratown most likely because that was where Damon and the hare were most familiar. Imara had met Damon only once when he had arrived at a family reunion alone.

Once as much information is gathered as possible, they say their goodbyes and Nick shuts down the laptop. For a moment, neither he nor Judy move. 

“Well.” Nick says, eventually. “That was eventful.”

Judy rubs the back of her neck. “It was.”

Another moment of silence passes.

“Well, I don’t know about you but I’m going to bed.”

“Yeah.” She begins walking, slowly, towards the bathroom. “I guess I’ll take a quick shower.”

Nick watches her from his peripheral. He sees her turn back to look at him, briefly, before quickly entering the bathroom. Nick slumps in his seat. _‘Oh boy…’_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhys Wilde   
> Imara Wilde
> 
> The name's of Nick's parents in this version of Zootopia. I decided to go with names a little more... nontraditional for them. I liked the blend of exotic elements of 'Imara' and, well, Rhys I've liked ever since I discovered the name while playing 'Tales from the Borderlands.' Which, if you like story-driven games, I highly recommend. 
> 
> Anyways, hopefully you enjoyed.  
> Feel free to leave a comment, constructive criticism, nonconstructive criticism, a comment with a blend of constructive and nonconstructive criticism mixed with a bit of aspirin and cough syrup, and whatever else you feel like doing.


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